The Hogwarts Clique
by mina1011
Summary: [COMPLETE] Mean girls meets Magical world...Every school has them, a clique, even at Hogwarts. All stunningly pretty, and richabsolutely rolling in the galleons. The kind of girls guys always seem to fall for, and the ones all the girls envy.DMHG
1. Girls, Girls, Girls

**THE HOGWARTS CLIQUE**.

**Girls, Girls, Girls**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the Harry Potter books,movie...etc, they belong to J.K Rowling.**

**A/N: Hey guys, this is my first FanFic, and I really hope you enjoy it. Please review, I want to know if you think it's any good, and if I should continue writing! Byeeeeeeee! x  
p.s. There are some changes to the layout, basically Chapter 2. has been added to Chapter 1., so now the chapters are longer and there are less chapters then before. I have done that with all the chapters in my book.**

Every school has them. A group of girls, _a clique_ that rules the school. Even at Hogwarts. All four girls had known each other from before they got their letters from Hogwarts; when they went to their primary school they were also a clique.  
All four of the girls were stunningly pretty, and rich – absolutely rolling in the Galleons. They were exactly the kind of girls the guys always seemed to fall for - and the ones _all_ of the girls get jealous of. When they got their eagerly expected Hogwarts letters, they weren't sure if they were ready to let go of the "status" they had built up in their old school. But in the end, they had no choice; their parents forced all of them to go.  
These legendary girls were Hannah Abott, Pansy Parkinson, Parvati Patil and Padma Patil: all four in different houses, but all in the same year - 7th year, their last year. For the first few years, they had separated paths, each choosing to find new friends. Their beauty seemed to disappear when they left to Hogwarts, and they were no longer the "clique" they used to be. But all of that changed last summer. Their parents hadn't forgotten how they all used to be _such_ good friends, so they all arranged to meet up for the holidays. And that was how the Hogwarts clique was born.

---------

**: THE WHOLE BOOK IS FROM HERMIONE'S POINT OF VIEW: **

_When there are exceptions, you will be told in the text_

All four socialites knew perfectly well that they looked hot. They stood together on Platform 9 and ¾, being eyed up by everyone. They laughed; it was just like old times. Each girl seemed to forget how they had all broken friendships so any years ago. They had finally realized what they were missing out on, and that this was the life they wanted. The one where all the guys loved them and all the girls were envious, yet dying to be their "best friend".

"They are such sluts!" Hermione whispered angrily, "I mean…look at them!" she ended, her usually impressive vocabulary failing her on this subject.

That's exactly what Ron and Harry were doing.

"You're just jealous," Ron sniggered.

Hermione walked off in a huff.

"Sure, as if I'm jealous of _them_!" But she knew in her heart it was true. How could they suddenly become so pretty! It wasn't fair, no-one had payed any attention to them last year, why should they do so now? What the hell had changed? Their bra sizes?

She stalked onto the train, and found a whole group of girls, including Ginny, Lavender and Millicent with a few other 7th year girls. She could tell by their faces that they were all talking…or moreover bitching about the girls.

"Oh my God, I mean, they're not even that pretty! Just because they got a sun-tan doesn't turn them into …" the basher apparently couldn't find the words to describe them now. Another person spoke up.

"And anyway, have you seen the shoes Pansy was wearing! Totally last season!" Lavender complained.

Hermione opened the compartment door and sat on the last empty seat.

"And all the guys seem to only have eyes for them! Aaaargh, it's not fair!" screeched Ginny.

Hermione enthusiastically joined into this massive 'bitch-fest'.

"It's unbelievable, isn't it? They're not even at school yet and they act as if they own the bloody place!"

As if on cue, that's when Hannah, Pansy, Parvati and Padma walked into the compartment.

"Hey, girls!" Hannah cried, her voice like over-sweet sugar – brittle and utterly nauseating. "How was your summer?"

Although everyone had just been gossiping about them, they now all acted as if they were goddesses come to grace the lowly mortals. Even Hermione understood the social hierarchy of cliques – and what they could do to you if you got on their bad side. After a few minutes the girls got bored and decided to leave.

"Well, ta-ta ladies" Padma exclaimed "I suppose we'll be seeing you around then." She linked her arms with the other three, and walked away with a strong and confident swagger.

The rest of the girls left in the compartment could hear the wolf-whistles and jeering coming from the guys down the corridor. School was going to be hell.

-----------

Hermione left the compartment, wondering where Ron and Harry were.

_Hopefully not with those bitches_, she thought to herself.  
She sighed. She couldn't believe how **mean **she was being about them, before they had all been O.K friends (with the exception of Pansy) ….and now . . . just because they looked different didn't mean that the person inside was different! Couldn't people see that? Contemplating this, a little voice in her head piped up.

_You just really want to be like them._

As she walked down, she looked into one of the compartments. She regretted it immediately, as she saw Ron and Harry with their arms around Hannah and Parvati, respectively. They **definitely** weren't the only guys in there. She was about to open the door when somebody put their hand over her mouth and dragged her off into an empty compartment.

---------------

"What the hell is going on!" she yelled furiously, but her voice trailed off when she caught sight of her abductor.

It was Malfoy. _Ohbloodyfreakingjustshootmenow-_  
"Oh god, not you already" she said. She tried to push past him, but the Slytherin muttered an incantation, locking the door.

"Cleeever Malfoy" she sneered, "but we learnt the counter-charm for that in _first_ year."

She reached for her pocket . . . and stupidly realized she had left her wand in the compartment with Ginny and all the other girls.

"Nice one Granger" Malfoy muttered, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He shoved her onto one of the seats, and leant in to face Hermione, his face only centimeters away from hers.

"I have a favor to ask from you, mudblood" he spat, "and you'd better keep your filthy little mouth shut about it."

"You can forget about me ever helping _you_!" she replied, smirking.

"Wanna bet on that?" Malfoy retorted slyly.

He didn't want to ask Granger, but what choice did he have? He knew that she feared him and that he had a power over her that he didn't have over other girls: the power of persuasion, and she wouldn't - _couldn't_ taunt him back, because she was afraid that he would get back at her for it….which he probably would. Compared to other girls, he always knew that Hermione was the most understanding, and the most reliable. As if he could ever ask somebody like Millicent about this!

"Give me your worst."

"Well Granger, listen closely to this. You know how we're both Head Boy and Girl this year?"

"How could I forget?" she hissed, "I have to stay in the same dorm as _you_ all year!"

"Whatever. If you don't do what I say, then I will tell Dumbledore that you cheated on your O.W.L's."

"He wouldn't believe you anyway!" She exclaimed, burning up inside. He was such an idiot! How dare he say anything of the sort!  
"They wouldn't believe a Head Boy would they now, eh?"

"I-I…" she thought about it. She knew how much power Malfoy's father had over the school; was it really worth the risk of loosing her place at Hogwarts by refusing to help Malfoy? She had seen Lucius's power being misused over the incident with Buckbeak, the Hippogriff - thankfully he had gotten away. But would she would be so lucky if she decided not to? Hermione didn't want to take any chances on her future.

"I take it then you agree?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Exactly, you don't."

She didn't say anything. For a moment there was silence.

"So, what is it you want from me?" Hermione asked, fearing the worst.

"I want you to tutor me this year."

Hermione tried to hide her laughter; she thought it would be so much worse!  
"Err….sure, ok. What in?"

". . . Girls."

"WHAT!" Ok, Malfoy, the legendary Slytherin Sex-God, was asking _her,_ Hermione Granger, about…girls!

"Ok….how am I supposed to be able to do that?"

"Like this." And with that, he moved closer to Hermione, cupped her chin and turned her head to face him….

_Stupid girl, _Malfoy thought, _as if I would ever kiss a mudblood! Ha! Well, at least I have her attention now!_

It certainly worked: all of her senses were prickling, and she felt suddenly scared and embarrassed to sit next to him. As if she was exposed to him.

"Ok, let's keep this short," she muttered, wanting to get out of here as soon as she could. "We'll talk more about this in our dorm." She said, before running out of the compartment.

She ran straight into Pansy.

**A/N: Oh oh, Pansy! Is she really the best person to run into after just speaking to Malfoy? Maybe she saw her? What is she going to say to Hermione? I know it's not a great "lead-up of suspense" or anything, but it _really does_ get better, I mean, how many amazing books have you read, that have a not-so-amazing start to them eh? Hehe, please do read on, and review ;-)**


	2. 1 Night, 2 Encounters

**1 Night, 2 Encounters**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter books or the characters, movies etc...etc.**

**A/N: Okkk, didn't get any more reviews :-( but whatever, I like writing these, so I will just keep updating :-) Please keep reading, because although it may seem iffy to you now, I promise it gets loads better, trust me! Byeeeeee! x**

"Oh hi, Hermione" Pansy said.

_Ha! They probably just act nice to everyone so that they can get as many people as possible to become their fans! Well, I'm definitely not going to admire them! She's just as bad as Malfoy is! _

Even though that's what she was thinking she simply said:

"Hey, Park-Pansy."

"I saw you talking to Malfoy back there"

"Oh…yeah…I…" _crapshitbollocksbloodyhellI'mscrewed_

"Well anyway," the (dyed) blonde cut in "How is he?"

_As if she would care! She caught him cheating on her last year; they had broken up…why does she want to know how Malfoy is? _

"He's fine."

"Are you guys good friends or something?" Pansy asked skeptically. She knew perfectly well that Malfoy hated the Gryffindor; he had complained to her about Hermione more then once.

"Err…." She didn't know what to say, but she figured if Pansy was going to talk to Malfoy about this, and she said that they weren't friends, he might get angry and try to ruin her life even more. If that was even possible.

"Well…I guess so."

: **Pansy thinking**:  
_Hmmm…Granger is friends with Draco Malfoy, eh? Well, that just can't be then, can it? Besides, I like Draco now…I totally forgive him for what happened last time. And anyway, I'm hot now, how could he resist me when I ask him out again! Hah!_

…_But wait, if the mudblood is friends with him, maybe she could figure out if Draco likes me! Yes! Gaaawd_ Pansy_, you're just so clever! (_She smirked)

_But she hates me, hmmm…what if I make her an offer she won't … or can't refuse…_

: **END**:  
"Well Hermione, I think I have a pleasant surprise for you. Meet us tonight in the Great Hall, two hours after dinner?"

And before Hermione could reply, she left with a flick of her robes.

"Stupid bitch…" Hermione muttered. She knew perfectly well what she meant by _us_…that stupid group. The "clique."

_Great start to the year, I have to say_, she thought to herself.

_Why are the Slytherins suddenly taking a keen interest in me? Can't they just leave me alone? It's my last year; for god's sake…give me a break! _

First Malfoy, and now Pansy.

Speaking of which, she wondered what Malfoy wanted from her. This whole 'girl' thing was freaking her out. She had agreed to something that may be something she had never expected. That was stupid of her.

And Pansy? What the heck does she want! She was rather frightened of meeting the whole group; what if they did something to her? She was freaking out so much.

She had a gut feeling that this year would be her strangest one yet. She hoped that it would be for the better.

In a few hours, at least, she would know what was going on.

---------------

Dinner seemed to flash by.

Within a few minutes she was being led to her new dorm room by Professor McGonagall, feeling Draco's- _MALFOY'S !_- eyes following her every move.

"Tomorrow we will give the both of you your rounds duty schedule" said the Transfigurations professor, and with that, she left with a flourish.

Now they were alone.

-----------

The lights were dimmed, and the two could barely make out each others' faces.

_Thank god, I feel like such an idiot. Wonder how red my face is by now._

"Ok Malfoy, tell me what you want from me."

"To start with: however embarrassed you're feeling right now mudblood, think about how I must be feeling. So listen closely, because I'm only saying this once."

"…Sure, get on with it."

"I want you to help me with…my love life."

"Sure, as if _you_" - she was interrupted by Malfoy before she could finish.

"It's about Pansy."

"-oh."

An awkward silence swept through the room.

"Well," continued Hermione, rather defensively, "It's not my fault you cheated on her…"

"I know" Malfoy said, "But I really regret it."

His voice trembled a bit, and Hermione could tell _(shockhorror)_ that he really did mean it.

"I didn't realize what I was missing without her…"

Hermione's face flushed, not for the first, and doubtfully for the last, time that night. In one way she felt bad for Malfoy, but she **really** didn't want to be discussing his business with him. Cause frankly, she couldn't give a shit.

"But anyway…" He continued, trying to regain his usual arrogant tone, "I want you to tell me how I'm supposed to get her back."  
_Ok, this is seriously the WEIRDEST situation I've ever been in! What the hell does Malfoy want from me!_

"…And what does that involve?" She asked sheepishly, flushing deep red _(again!)_.  
"Strip-tease" Malfoy said in a cocky manner.

"WHAT THE FUCK!"  
"It was a joke, dumbass!" Malfoy sneered.  
". . . ah . . . hehehe."

_Pheeeew - for a moment I thought he was telling the truth. What a perverted asshole! Although…it was kind of funny…_

"Now seriously Hermi-GRANGER . . . I want you to tell me how I can get Pansy back. Like…you know…you're a … girl, so you would, well you should know what a girl wants from a guy. And you need to tell me that."

"So, you just want me to tell you how to flirt, and do nice things for Pansy, in the hopes of getting her back?"

"That's all."

"And why do you want her back?"

"Daaaamn girl, didn't you see her? She's looking goooood!"

_. . .okay . . .what the fuck._

"Hmmm…"

"What's wrong Hermi—GRANGER, jealous you still haven't hit puberty?"

"Fuck you Malfoy."

**:Draco Thinking: **

_Actually, Hermione doesn't look all that bad either_. _Wait, WHAT! I must be going crazy, that filthy mudblood isn't good looking - all this stress Malfoy…must be getting to your head. _

**:END:**

"Anyway…" Malfoy said, "Do you understand what you have to do?"

"Yes, I do. But when am I going to…" she coughed dramatically, "tutor you?"

"During rounds, there's nothing else to do then anyway."

"Ok, sounds fine to me." _He's right though, rounds are hellishly boring, should get pretty interesting now! _

"Good."

They looked at each other, and not for the first time that evening, they both flushed.

"Ok, I guess we're done then…" Hermione's voice trailed off

"Yeah, we are."

And with a flick of his robes, Malfoy swept away up to the stairs. She could hear his feet lightly touching the steps, as he sped upstairs. Then it stopped…and she could sense him coming back to the common room.

"By the way Granger…"

"Yes?"

"…If anybody finds out about this…" he whispered threateningly, "I'll know where to find you."

Hermione didn't reply as she turned around and walked up the steps leading to her bedroom; she didn't need to be threatened right now. She had to go freshen up for her next meeting with a Slytherin.

Quickly hurrying downstairs, (she only had one minute to get there), Hermione wondered what they could possibly want from her. She wasn't ugly, but she wasn't anywhere in their league. And she hadn't done anything mean to them. _Well, there was that thing in the train…but it wasn't only me!_ And before she could think about it anymore…she saw them waiting for her in the Great Hall.

**A/N: So Malfoy likes Pansy, and she is about to find out why Pansy and the Clique need to see her...what did they want from her? Was is because of the bitching on the train? Maybe she could bargain her way out of trouble, and into the Clique, with the knowledge of the name of one of the Clique's member secret admirer...? Anything is possible in the world of wizadry and witchcraft! Read on to find out more**


	3. Magical Makeover

**Magical Makeover**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the Harry Potter books,movie...etc, they belong to J.K Rowling.**

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the long wait...a bit of problems with word n stuff! Well enjoy, I'm just finishing up Chapter 7, so check for updates! Again, sorry for the wait! I hope you enjoy it! R&R please :)**

"Hello Hermione." Padma whispered. "Come with us."

Reluctantly, Hermione followed the four witches as they brought her to a familiar passage that she remembered from the DA sessions with Harry.

"Hey, are we going to the room of requ-" Hermione started, but was cut off by an irate whisper.

"Shhhh!"

_Ok…yeah, thanks for that_. But Hermione knew she was right; she couldn't remember how many times she had walked down here in the past. And here they were . . .  
When they got there, all four clique girls walked up and down the corridor, as if it was some kind of cat walk. Hermione just stood there, impatient, curious, and very, very nervous.  
Suddenly, a door appeared and all five of them hurried inside. Approaching the doorway, Hermione looked around, wondering if this was really the right thing to do. But again, she was faced with a situation where she really didn't have much choice. She walked inside and faced an amazing scene.

The lights were off, but the room was illuminated by dozens of candles scattered around the room. She noticed that there was also a large circle of candles in the centre of the room where all four were standing. Hannah, Padma, Parvati and Pansy all looked at Hermione, wondering if what they were about to do was the best for all of them. And silently they all agreed that Hermione did have her uses to them.

**:AN HOUR BEFORE (the room of requirement):**

The four members of the clique gathered around as the last traces of sunlight faded from the artificial window.

"So I was talking to Granger today," said Pansy, "And she told me that she was friends with Malfoy! And, why would she say that if it wasn't true? You know what a goody-two shoes she is – she's physically incapable of lying."

"How am I supposed to know how ugly people's minds work?" exclaimed Hannah, filing her nails.

"Get to the point, Pans," Parvati cut in.

"And . . . well," Pansy stuttered, "I still like Dray (someone snorted at the nickname)…and I mean, it would totally improve my social status if I was with him: he is like the most popular guy in the school; have you seen his hair, and his body! Ohhhmygaawd…."

"Gaawd, shut up Pansy!" Padma giggled; she knew how Pansy got when she went into one of her raves about **any **guy, which happened at least once a week; it was a different guy every time.

"Ok, so you want to use Granger to get back with Malfoy?" Parvati said. She was always the most serious and down-to-earth member of the clique.

"Well yeah…if she could just figure it out for me, like what he wants, and just talk to Draco about me 'n stuff…yeah, things may finally work out between me and him…" She exaggerated her sigh, making it sound like she was some stupid high school girl having her first crush - which it basically was.  
"And I know how you guys are, always wanting to know what's in it for _you, _and I just realized…Granger is **also** friends with Harry and Ron, and I know how you guys are _desperate_ to get them. And well, Hannah is just gonna have to get with someone like…Ernie or something," she finished, feeling smart and happy for having found a reason why her friends would agree to her plan. And she could see in all their eyes that she was right – _but then again . . . I always am._

**:END INTERLUDE :**

"Hermione, we are about to offer you something that will change the rest of your life here at Hogwarts," Padma started.

"But, it will require a few moments of pain." Continued Hannah ominously.

"Trust us though, it is all worth it." Parvati said.

"Hermione . . ." Pansy muttered in a sullen and reluctant voice, "We invite you to join our clique." she finally finished.

This was literally the last thing Hermione had been expecting. Stunned, she could only mumble, "I…err…really?"

"Yes, seriously!" Hannah giggled; she was the most carefree and fun loving of the four, and was always nice to people . . . well, usually.

"Well to be honest Mione, you don't have much choice!" Padma cut in brightly as she and the others started closing in on Hermione. In a disconcerting chorus, she heard the girls cry out "_Petrificus Totalus!_"

Hermione was unable to move or speak, but she was still aware of what was going on around her. When she saw four faces loom over her vision, fear took over her rationality. She could feel and hear, but was unable to stop them from doing anything to her.

_Well_, she thought, _at least I have some time for myself to think_. _I wonder what they're going to do to me! This isn't what I want! . . . Is it? Or is it possible that this is really what I've been wanting all along? To be a part of the clique?_ Questions exploded into her mind; why the fuck would they want her…HER in the clique! Plain, frizzy haired Hermione Granger? What did she ever do to them?

_Maybe they want to copy their homework off of me. After all, that seems to be the only thing anyone's ever found me useful for._

But before she could do anything, a blinding pain seared through her body. If she had been paying attention to the girls, she would have instantly known that they were in the process of giving her what was known as a magical makeover. What that basically meant was that they were turning her pretty using dark magic. . Which you would only ever learn about from the restricted section of the library. Or if you were an evil bitch, like Pansy.  
It hurt like hell, like nothing ever had before. But of course . . . beauty was pain! And that was all Hermione knew before she blacked out.

**HOURS LATER**

It was at least 3:00 in the morning before Hermione finally made it back to her room. She was too exhausted to bother to look in the mirror and see her transformation, and too nervous besides. She slept restlessly, dreading the moment she would have to wake up and face herself in the bathroom the next morning.  
Her tormenters had given her clothes for tomorrow which she had grudgingly agreed to wear . . . but she was so tired . . . she would be surprised if she would even manage to wake up tomorrow…

**RINNNNG . . . RINNNNG . . .**

"Oh Gaaawd! _Fuck!"_ Hermione angrily muttered into her pillow.

She stood up, having totally forgotten the events of the night before. Putting on her clothes in a rush, she noticed that they felt oddly tight and skimpy on her.

_Whatever_…she got her brush and absentmindedly ran it through her hair; it seemed as if her bushy hair was under control for once.

She frantically looked around the room, looking for something she may have forgotten before she grabbed her bag and ran down the stairs to the Heads' common room. Malfoy was waiting for her downstairs, going over his class schedule and patrol times. He spun around when he heard Hermione walk down the stairs - and stared at the changed girl in complete disbelief. His jaw practically fell to the floor, and his eyes immediately tried to spring out of his head.

**Draco's thoughts:**

_Holy shit . . . I've never seen anyone look like this before – except . . .them. Bloody hell, Hermione, what did you manage to get yourself into this time?_

**:End:**

Trying to control his senses, he managed to stumble through a sentence in between goggling at the Gryffindor.

"Granger…what…what the fuck happened to you!"

**A/N: What does Hermione look like? How will her new look effect her life? And how will Draco react to having a hot girl for Head Girl? Well, just find out for yourself and read on! Review please :-)**


	4. The Clique Look

**The Clique Look**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the Harry Potter books,movie...etc, they belong to J.K Rowling.**

**A/N: Ok, so got back from London its so awesome:D aaaand, I got my beta'd copy of Chapter 6, so...I decided to replace it with my old Chapter 6. If you already read the old one, its not essential you read the new version, but its a bit better..., so enjoy! R&R xxx**

_What is he talking abou – oh no. Aaaaargh! SHIT, how the fuck could I forget!_

Hermione ran back up the stairs to the safety of her room and, with dread pooling in her stomach, looked in her mirror. She couldn't believe what she saw staring back at her.

She had grown taller, and she had lost a lot of weight. Her cheekbones were more defined, and her eyebrows had the just-waxed look to them – without the redness. The perfectly shaped eyes in the mirror were a bright blue, and her nose had lost the uneven bump in the middle. However, the biggest change was her hair. Falling to below her shoulders in sleek waves of brownish black, it looked like she could be in a freakin' L'Oreal commercial. Her figure was long and sleek, with her legs seeming to fall for miles. She was beautiful.

Well, more like hot.

_Oh god, Hermione,_ she thought, and, unknowingly echoing Malfoy's earlier words, muttered desperately to herself,

"What have you gotten yourself into now?"

Hermione turned to Malfoy, who had followed her to her room upon seeing her transformation . . . . and burst out crying.

Although her natural self-preservation instincts told her it was certain death to cry in front of a Slytherin, she couldn't stop the tears from flowing. She just couldn't believe what had happened to her. She had only just agreed to (_well, more like forced _to) join the clique, and she could already see the drastic changes it was going to make on her life. Was this really the right decision? Hermione was happy with her appearance, and she always the _beauty-comes-from-the-inside_ person, and now…everything had changed. All she could do was stagger over to her desk, bury her beautiful face in her beautiful hands, and sob. She had completely forgotten about the stunned Slytherin standing only feet away from her.

Meanwhile, said Slytherin was standing awkwardly in Hermione's room, trying to remember how one dealt with a crying girl one didn't even like. However, all etiquette and training flew from his head as he realized he was actually seeing Hermione Granger lose control. While one side of his head was repeatedly screaming _blackmailblackmailBLACKMAIL_ (that would be his Slytherin side), the majority of his brain was still on fumbling-teenage-boy-in-pretty-girl's-room-while-pretty-girl-is-crying-her-eyes-out-holy-crap-what-do-I-do mode. That changed rather quickly though, as he saw the perfect opportunity that was being handed to him. There was a sad, vulnerable, hot girl standing in front of him with a helpless expression on her face. Suddenly his instincts came in. His chauvinistic, manipulative, Slytherin-Sex-God instincts.  
He walked over to Hermione and, with the most Hufflepuffian attitude he could muster without vomiting, gathered her in his arms and attempted to comfort someone for the first time in his life, however insincere the action may have been. He knew most girls got off on the 'sensitive' types . . . .all he had to be was the shoulder she leaned on, right? Her mind would do the rest.

Of course, one thing Malfoy had forgotten was that Hermione was not like "most girls". Quickly realizing what was going on, she gained her composure and stared at Malfoy with mock confusion in her eyes. _If he wants to play that game, well then so can I._ She freshened up, putting on a fresh layer of mascara to hide her puffy eyes, and briskly walked down the stairs, leaving Malfoy staring behind her in real confusion and more than a little frustration.

Hermione was totally confused as she hurriedly made her way to the Great Hall; she knew the classic game Malfoy was playing, she wasn't stupid . . . but why her? Wasn't it Pansy he wanted back? But before she could ponder more on this thought, she saw Pansy, Hannah, Parvati and Padma in the distance. She waved and smiled, and quickly walked towards them. _If I'm going to play this charade, might as well play it the whole way through. I only hope that when this is over, everyone will realize this isn't the real me._

"Eeehmygaaawd, you look stunning!" Pansy gawped, running towards her and pulling the girl into a hug.

"We out-did ourselves, ladies!" Parvati agreed.

"Thanks girls," Hermione replied to both of them, making sure to pitch her voice a few notches higher, "You're the best friends a girl could have!"  
With a start, she realized that acting like a clique member wasn't as hard as it should be. The transformation of looking pretty had made her act more girly inside. She had always wanted to be that "popular girl" in all the muggle movie chick-flicks she had seen. And now that she was, she knew exactly how she should act. _Careful, Hermione . . . don't let this go too far._

And with that, as if they had been best friends for their entire lives they walked into the Great Hall, smiling and strutting as if on a catwalk . . . which they basically were. Their entrance was marked with uproars, whistles and catcalls from the male population of the school. Hermione waved to the girls as they split ways towards their tables and sat down with Pavarti beside Ron and Harry.

They had exactly the same reaction as Malfoy – without the thought processes, of course. But you couldn't really expect that much from the poor boys . . at the moment, breathing appeared to be overly difficult for them.

"Hermione…is…is that really you?" Ron stammered, blushing the trademark Weasley scarlet.

"Why yes it is Ronald, surprised to see me?" she replied, smiling. Elegantly reaching out for some toast, she was stopped when about five boys grappled to be the first one to hand it to her.

"Why, thank you!" She smiled. She took the slice offered from Harry, who was trying – and failing – to look as if Hermione wasn't any different from yesterday.

"So, erm…Hermione…" Ron began uncertainly.

"Yes, Ron?" This was going to be fun.

"What did you do?"

"How do you mean?" Hermione teased; she knew precisely what he meant.

"Well, how did you get so, so…"

"So what Ronald?" _Come on, you can articulate . . ._

"Beautiful" he muttered, flushing yet again.

"Awww…thank you, Ronnie!" She smirked as both boys adopted twin expressions of horror at the nickname. She was only joking around, her "clique" self was reserved only for everyone who she didn't really know or liked. But with Ron or Harry she would remain herself. It's not as if she had totally forgotten how to be normal!

"I'm kidding Ron," she laughed. "It's a long story, but basically I found some new friends from last night – and they made me the way I am now!" She smiled at the apparent confusion of her friends. She knew that her explanation was brief, but she couldn't really be bothered to explain everything.

"Wait, you mean you're friends with Padma, Parvati, Hannah and Pansy?" Harry asked.

"Yes! . . . How did you know?"

"Well, you look as hot as they do!" Ron guffawed. Harry punched his shoulder and grinned.  
_Boys will be boys,_ Hermione thought, as she turned to her toast with a sigh.

She was glad to be back though, she had missed Hogwarts, and she had this feeling that this year was going to be very special.

Slowly everybody filtered out of the Great Hall, and Hermione waited for Malfoy. They always had first period off as Head Girl and Boy, to check that nobody was skiving classes and that the corridors were empty before proceeding to their second lesson in the day, which happened to be Potions. Both of them took almost the same classes and had the same schedule, except Hermione took Arithmancy instead of Divination.

She saw the Head Boy walk towards her, casually shouting a parting comment to Zabini over his shoulder as he approached.

"Hey," she said "What's up?" She didn't really want to talk to him, but if they were doomed to spend the morning together for the rest of the year, they might as well make the best of it – she didn't want to be docked of the Head Girl position.

"I must say Granger, it must have taken you a long time to find a spell which can transform you into anything remotely passable" he smirked.

_Well, there goes that idea._

She couldn't think of a decent insult to throw back at him, so she simply _replied_.

"Yeah, it sure did. Took hours in the library – had to look in the Restricted Section!" she savored the taken aback silence before he recovered.

"So _Hermione_, you've been thinking about my "lessons"?

"Yes, how could I forget," she sighed in mock despair.

"Great," he sneered, either missing or deliberately ignoring her sarcasm. "Can't wait to hear what you think will turn a girl on…You know Granger, you look nice today, for a mudblood that is…"

"Oh gawd, shut _up _Draco!" she desperately stuttered – she knew she had not planned that comment to slip out. She was starting to sound like Pansy when she wasn't even meaning to!

But Hermione couldn't control her own feelings. She was, to her chagrin, rather pleased that Malfoy, the Slytherin Sex God, actually thought Hermione was pretty. It was a huge compliment towards her, and although he was an asshole, for any girl a compliment on her appearances is always appreciated!

Other than a strange glance, he didn't make any comments on Hermione's slip of the tongue, much to her relief. "I guess its time for us to go to Potions," he yelled above the ringing of the first bell.

And before she could call anything back to him, she was engulfed by the tidal wave of students who were coming out from all the available doors. She hurriedly tried to push past the masses shouting "Head Girl coming through! Out of the way, please, important Head business . . . "

_Another plus side to being a Head Girl_ she grinned, as people let her pass.

She rushed down to the dungeons, and pushed the door open, praying that Snape wouldn't be assigning the first detention of the year to her.

"Sorry professor, it's just that all the students…"

She was interrupted by a screeching noise one normally associates with a dying bird, coming from Pansy.

"Miiiiiioneeee, girrrrlfriend! How are yaa?" the brunette impatiently beckoned her to the empty seat beside her.

Blushing, she walked to the empty space besides Pansy, ignoring the injured looks from Harry and Ron as Millicent Bulstrode was forced to sit between the two boys.

She knew that everybody was watching her, in awe of her transformation. As soon as she sat down, whispers spread around the room. She tried to block out the ones from the female half of the room, the ones calling her a traitor and a fake. Instead, she half-heartedly smirked at the things she could hear the boys say.

"Bloody Merlin! Wasn't she ugly yesterday?"

"Damn, Granger's looking fine today . . ."

"What d'you reckon happened over the summer?"

"Who cares, mate? Look at tha"-

As the class was abruptly silenced by Professor Snape's shouting, Hermione closed her eyes.

It was going to be the start of a very strange year.

**A/N: Questions; How did Pansy's and Draco's breakup really happen? How will Hermione react to her first Clique party and how will she keep her new -secret- a secret from Pansy? Answers: You will have to wait untill I update! Hehe, R&R**


	5. Hidden Faces

**Hidden Faces**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the Harry Potter books,movie...etc, they belong to J.K Rowling.**

A/N: Ok, so school has started for me again, so this will be the last update for the rest of the week, but maybe the weekend! I have just come up with some major cool idea's for this story, so I am pleased with how it's going. This chapter is slightly longer then the rest, but I like it :-)  
Please remember to review, it keeps us authors going ya know!

_As time passes . . ._

It had only been one week since her transformation, and in those seven days, Hermione had already received fifteen date offers, six 'propositions', and one marriage proposal (but he had been drunk, so that may not have counted). It was as if the whole school seemed to adore the Clique; even the first years looked up to them as if they were goddesses. To Hannah and Hermione it was cute, and they always smiled and waved at any of the kids who had gotten the courage to speak to them. Whereas Padma, Parvati and Pansy felt that the kind gestures made them "look desperate for attention, like rabid hyenas that jump on a bone", and totally ignored the younger students. Hermione felt as if there was a distinct split between the group. She and Hannah were generally friendly to most people, Padma and Parvati were always together, there being a mutual connection between them because they were sisters, and Pansy was only nice to the Slytherins. Hermione didn't mind so much though. Ever since she joined the Clique all she was doing was having fun, and planning out 'major events' for all the 'cool people' to come to, according to Pansy. This basically meant finding a way to get Firewhiskey and liquor into the castle when they were planning a party.

As her thoughts wandered along this topic, Hermione realized that her first party was coming up, which Hermione was extremely excited for (she tactfully ignored the little screaming voice in her head saying this was a bad idea; Pansy had said hearing that was completely normal and you just had to ignore it). She had never really been to a party because to most people, she was too much of a bookworm and a bit of a loser. And now that she was going to be one of the hostesses of this party, a party which was going to one of the best parties Hogwarts had ever seen, she was as nervous and excited as she was when she was waiting for her O.W.L results. More, even. How did grades compare to a party as big as this?

Walking along the corridor, she frowned to herself as something about that sentence nagged at her. . .but there was no time to waste worrying. She was one of the main information spreaders of the party, which meant getting the word out about it as quickly as possible to everyone who mattered.

And now her first assignment was to give an invitation to Malfoy. It was one of those Hogwarts rules that you have to give the first invitation to the Head Boy and Girl if it was going to be a senior party. At least that's what Padma had told her, giggling.

As usual Hermione waited for him outside the Great Hall so they could do their morning duties. They had already fallen into a routine of when and how they would do rounds and other Head responsibilities. Neither of them had time that week to have their 'lessons', but she had left him a couple of notes on some 'tips', which she had gotten from a muggle dating book, cackling as she wrote them down, imagining the look on Malfoy's face when he realized he had been listening to Muggles. He hadn't mentioned anything about it, so she assumed all was good – and he hadn't figured her out yet. Saturday was going to be their first real lesson, and she would do anything to get a time turner and just skip it.

But first … the invitation.

"Hey Draco," she smiled, "I have something for you."

"Really? I think, from the rumors I heard, I have a pretty good idea what you're about to give me." he replied with a smirk.

"Well then, I won't bother explaining." she said coolly, and she gave him the black invitation with delicate gold patterns around it, the style was very chic according to the clique, and inside it read;

**Dear Draco,**

**You have been invited to the first Hogwarts senior party of the year!**

**The theme is going to be ballroom styled masquerade, so come dressed in formal attire, but you have to hide your identity…sneaky **

**We will be providing drinks and food.**

**It will be (tonight) Friday night, at 9:00. The location is…**

Reading the fancy inscriptions, Malfoy's eyes suddenly widened, then narrowed dangerously. Hermione instantly knew what part he had gotten to.

"_What_. **_The_**. **_Hell!_**" he roared, "it's going to be at the Head's common room! Did your makeover turn you really that bloody stupid, Granger!"

"Oh shit, I'm sorry!" Hermione gushed, giggling inside. "I forgot!"

_Makeover? What is he talking about?_

"No fucking way is it going to be here, I know how people leave places after a party!"

Hermione had been prepared for this, and she knew exactly what to say.

"Gawd Draco, scared you're going to get into trouble? Not much of a Slytherin at all, are you?"

She was challenging him, calling him a loser, and she knew he would get angry, as always, and rise to the insult.

"Me? Scared? No way Hermione…you can use the Heads' Room all you want, I don't give a damn."

And with that he stormed off to his room, leaving Hermione to dance around in exhilaration. She had just had a little personal victory over Malfoy, bringing the never-ending tally up to her favor by three fights. Checking her watch, _(and she didn't have much time left!)_, she hurried out to deliver the rest of the invitations before getting ready for the party.

In all her joy she had forgotten that, for the first time in seven years, Draco Malfoy had called her Hermione, and that Hermione Granger had just called him Draco.

--------------

**Clique Meeting**

"Ok, so…what are we going to wear to the party?" Hannah asked. Her question was immediately answered by Pansy, who seemed to Hermione to be the leader of the clique.

"Well, I want us all to go dressed similar, because we're all the hostesses, but then again…we're supposed to hide our identity, and it might be nice to just split up tonight…so that people won't know who we are."

"Good point,"

"Agreed!"

"But I still kind of want to wear the same as you guys…" that would be Pavarti, always desperately tagging along with the group, scared to be by herself. Hermione was reminded of another little rat in another sort of clique, twenty years ago . . .she just hoped Pavarti wouldn't go the same way as him.

"Well, maybe we can all wear the same idea, like for example if we were all to wear a cocktail dress, we could wear the same model, but just different colours and masks and stuff…" Hermione tentatively suggested.

"Ohmiiigawd . . ." This was from Pansy. And her "Ohmiiigawd . . ." was always reserved for something extremely good . . .or extremely bad.

"What?" Hermione asked, scared she had said something wrong.

"You're a genius!"

"Thanks," she grinned in relief.

In the end they all agreed on wearing a long slinky dress, hugging their figures. It was tight, but still flowing, they looked at least three years older in those dresses. It was a simple design, yet it looked as if it was the most complex and it was easily the most eye catching in the area. Less, according to the Clique, is more. They looked stunning, and they were so excited to show off to everybody.

Hermione wore a black dress, and everybody else wore their house colours, so she slightly felt left out, but then again, all the other girls told her that she stood out. One thing she noticed was that yellow was definitely not Hannah's colour . . But she didn't mention it.

The masks however, were very expensive. Pansy had quickly sent a letter to her mother, asking her to collect five masquerade masks, the most expensive and deluxe available, describing in detail each of their dresses. In a matter of minutes, it seemed, she had received a package and inside were the most divine masks the girls had ever seen. Hermione took the black one at the far end. It was one of those old-type masks where a long stick was attached to it, to hold it across your face, and take it off easily or let the top end down for a peek of your face. The base was black, and had pearls and silver trimmings around the eyes and nose areas. There were bright white feathers sticking out along the edge, and when Hermione looked into the mirror, she felt, and knew she looked, for the first time ever, absolutely stunning.

"Guys?" she said, turning around nervously for their assessment.

"Tut-tut, it's Lady Hermione" Hannah laughed, her nose in the air. The others joined her laughter, in between compliments of Hermione's dress and mask.

She smirked, "No seriously, I have something to say."

Everyone went silent to hear Hermione's confession.

"I…I really really appreciate everything you guys have done for me, and really…my year would have been ultra crappy if it wasn't for all of you. Y'all mean so much to me."

And she really meant her sentiments, she wouldn't be standing here, looking so beautiful right now if it weren't for them.

"Hermione….we love you too!" everyone cried, and they all hugged each other. But before long, Pansy yelled,

"Hey we have like…twenty minutes to get hair and make-up done, and then we have to go downstairs." They were all up in Hermione's room to get ready.

"Hey Pansy…" Padma said "Have we already arranged how the dorm is going to look, and the caterer and music and stuff?"

"Duh, Padma, you think I was going to leave it to the last minute? I'm a Slytherin, remember? I paid a bunch of people to do it for me." Padma quietly nodded, properly chastised.

Money, Hermione realized, really affected how popular the Clique was. Without it, they would just be plain "pretty", but with the amazing clothes, party, gifts, and everything else they had, it made them beautiful. She was lucky that most of the girls in the Clique (except for her) were loaded with Galleons, and Pansy and the twins each had their personal accounts.

"Ok, make-up!" Parvati squealed.

"Well, everyone knows how to do it themselves so…get on with it!" Padma laughed as they all faced the mirrors and in a matter of minutes had magically gotten rid of their blemishes, and turned their lips a blood red. That was all Hermione had time to see in between the rapid flurrying of spells and charms, but as they turned to face her, they were all perfectly made-up. She stood awkwardly by the fifth mirror, feeling like an idiot.

"Erm…I don't really know how…" Hermione muttered, blushing. The response was significantly more cheerful than she expected.

"Aaah! Yay, makeover!" Hannah yelled, leading the charge towards her, and in seconds they seemed to have her strapped in a chair saying things to her like:

"Your eyebrows are fantastic!"

"You really need to get rid of this . . ."

"I know exactly what color you need!"

She smiled, she really did love them.

---------------

"Ok, we have like, a few minutes to spare, so let's tell each other who we're going to go for tonight" Pansy began. "I think it would be a cool idea to try and help everyone get together with their crush, like…if someone liked Neville," she said with a snort, "We would help her out to get him to ask her out. What do you think?"

"Ok, sounds like a good idea." Padma agreed.

"You start" Hermione chimed in, facing Hannah.

"Alright, well I think Ernie is so sweet! He's so smart and such a gentleman, even though he can get really pompous at times, but I think he's the best one for me!" She blushed as the others made appreciative noises.

"Parvati?"

"I like Ron."

Hermione tried not to burst out laughing, she had just spoken to Ron today about how he fancied Padma, and now that she found out that it was her sister who liked him; there might be a bit of trouble at the party.

"Padma?"

"Harry" she said dreamily.

Again Hermione was faced with trying to conceal her laughter. Now it was Padma who had the crush on Harry – wouldn't Ron be jealous! Too bad it was actually Pavarti Harry was drooling after. (In her opinion, the two girls seemed exactly the same.) She found it hilarious that she seemed to know everybody's crushes around here! Harry was her best friend, and she couldn't really see why anybody would ever want to date him, he had the most disgusting habits!

"And what about you Pansy?" This came from the still-blushing Hannah. All the whispers died as everyone leaned in to her Pansy's admission.

"Well I really still like Draco."

Hermione's eyes widened. Did she just say she liked Draco? YES! Now she wouldn't have to give Draco those stupid lessons on how to get Pansy back; she could just hook them up tonight! Awesome, now she would have one less problem to deal with!

"Hermione?" The prompting from Padma jolted her out of her thoughts.

"Oh," she said blushing "I really…I…don't really like anybody."

"What? _Seriously?_" came the astonished chorus from the girls.

"Ohmiiiigawd, you know what this means right?" Hannah yelled excitedly.

"Ya-haaa! We get to hook you up with someone we think goes well with you! Kinda like a blind date, because you won't know who it is, with the masks!"

"No…please don't!" But before Hermione could protest anymore, the four had all huddled in a corner thinking about who Hermione could date.

She gave a sigh, smiling in spite of herself. She didn't really mind, as long as it wasn't Neville.

Finally ready, they walked inside the common room, which Pansy's party people had done one hell of an amazing job of. They had magically made it bigger, and made it look like an authentic ballroom from the nineteenth century. Everyone was dressed to impress, and it was like one of those really old soirees, where the richest and the royal families went to. It was stunning, absolutely breathtaking.

They hurried over to the 'cool' section, where all the popular people were hanging out. She spotted Draco, Blaise, Ron and Harry over there. Being the 'boy-who-lived' automatically meant you were popular, no matter how much of a (loveable) pig you really were. On the end of the table, she could see Ron devouring his seventh chicken leg, by the looks of his plate.

Swiftly making her way over, Hermione saw out of the corner of her eye Hannah splitting off to talk to a furiously blushing Ernie. She heard murmurs erupting all around her, and wherever Pansy, Pavarti, Padma, or Hannah were mingling. Their elaborate masks didn't disguise their beauty and elegance, and everyone knew who it was walking towards them.

**A/N: How will Harry, Ron and most importantly Malfoy react to Hermione's entrance? Who will the Clique set Hermione up with? And what happens when Pansy plays hard-to-get, Draco feels hurt, gets a bit drunk, and sees gorgeous Hermione talking to one of his friends? Muahaha! Lol, evil laugh! R&R, mwah byeeee! x**


	6. Secrets and Saviors

**Secrets and Saviors **

**A/N: Hey sorry for the long wait guys! But I have the next 2 chapters ready, so I will update tres soon! R&R byeeeee! x**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the Harry Potter books,movie...etc, they belong to J.K Rowling.**

It seemed as if everybody had gotten at least a little bit drunk, or even totally out of it, in a matter of minutes.

The drunken boy who proposed to her last week asked her again, but this time he had actually managed to get some muggle born boy to offer to be the be the vicar.

She had spoken to Harry and Ron, but Harry was too busy chatting up Padma, who was just using him to get to Ron, whilst Ron was having a drinking competition with Seamus. She had tried to get his attention, but he wasn't really capable of speech at the moment. Harry however, looked too interested in Padma to notice Hermione, so she just left the two to the own business. Maybe they would speak again later.

All around her people were hooking up, dancing, or drinking. She smiled to herself; she knew the party was a success.

The clique had all split up their separate ways at first, and occasionally all five would collide together.

"Hey, what happened to my blind date?" Hermione asked at one point, not really caring.

They all blushed, but Pansy was not one to be shy and show much of her feelings, so she just blurted out the truth.

"He seemed pretty busy with another girl." She looked up to Hermione to see her reaction, and she burst out laughing.

Hermione, Pansy, Pavarti, Hannah and Padma all walked over to the area covered in fluffy pillows and blankets (they had to shoo a few couples away before the area was clear), and collapsed into a heap, giggling at each other.

Pansy was swaying, holding a bottle of Champagne, and trying her best to top up their glasses, but ended up spilling more than half onto the pillows.

"Oops!" she giggled

The music, the people, the atmosphere made Hermione feel the best she ever had in her entire life at Hogwarts. Why hadn't she learned to let go before? She felt as if she had definitely missed out on all these parties she hadn't gone to, but this year was different. She was going to every party, even if it was a day before her N.E.W.T's. She wasn't going to miss out on this feeling anymore.

Hermione had had her fair share of alcohol tonight, and was feeling quite tipsy, but she hadn't done anything stupid… yet. She still had a few of her senses around, but for the most, Hermione had almost no control over what she was doing.

She glanced around the room, and caught a few envious stares coming from some girls. She had gotten used to that though; everyone wanted to be part of the clique, and they all wanted to live that life. They were so jealous of them that it was useless to try and hide it. Most of the time the girls just laughed in their faces, but when her friends from the past, like Ginny, gave her that stare, she felt a churn of guilt and regret, and tried to push the familiar face out of her head.

But tonight was about having fun.

"Ok, ok…" Padma whispered. "Let's tell each other our deepest darkest secrets!"

Hermione knew all too well that they probably wouldn't remember anything that had gone on tonight come morning, so what harm was there in telling them her secret? Now she just had to think of one…

"Ok let's start wiiiiiith…." Hannah said "How about Padma!"

"Ok…Parvarti, I'm really sorry about this…but Harry asked me out, but I said no, I promise, and I told him that maybe he should try you, and you never know, because…" her voice trailed off, and she looked at Parvarti, who looked a little bit hurt, but she came over to Padma and hugged her.

"You're a pretty cool sister, not everyone would have done that for me."

Hermione sighed with relief. That could have ended up in a major cat-fight.

"Ok, my turn!" Hannah said "Now please don't tell anyone, but . . . I'm not a virgin."

. . . Well. Who would have expected that from Hannah! Hermione burst out laughing, and she wasn't the only one, everybody was giggling.

"What?" a confused Hannah asked "Is that so hard to believe?"

"YES!" They all roared, and all of them including Hannah fell into a heap, clutching their ribs with laughter.

It took a few minutes to get themselves together, but then it was Pansy's turn.

"Ok, this is for Hermione" she said, turning to face Hermione, "It was my idea to ask you into the clique, because you told me you were friends with Malfoy and I wanted to use you, to get back together with him, but then you turned out to be pretty cool, and I decided to get Malfoy myself."

There was a long silence.

Hermione's eyes began to fill with tears.

She stood up, and everyone except Pansy looked apologetically at her. She walked away, distantly hearing them yelling at Pansy, who looked shocked at Hermione's reaction. At least the rest of the clique was making her feel pretty damn bad about it.

_How…how could she? She used me, to get to Draco? What a mega bitch. _

She burst out crying in the middle of the room, and a few startled looking people backed away from her. Her mascara was running, and she quickly put her mask across her face. For the first time since she was in the clique, she wished she wasn't quite so noticeable.

She stumbled across the room, and collided into something – or somebody.

"Hey, Granger?" Blaise Zabini asked, looking a bit confused. "Are you alright? You don't look too good . . ." Hermione could smell the alcohol on his breath, but for now she didn't care; she needed somebody to talk to.

"No" she sniffed "She was really mean to me!" she said, a fresh flood of tears pouring down her face.

"Hey, hey, hey, shush….its ok," Blaise said, winking at his friends who were watching the pair, "I'll take you to your **bedroom**, and I'll make you feel better," he practically shouted.

Behind them, his Slytherin friends started sniggering, knowing the habits of the longtime player. Crying girls were his specialty.

Hermione, however, was clueless to what was going on in front of her. She was too preoccupied with her own thoughts to listen to what Blaise was saying.

"Ok…thank you." she murmured, as she stumbled across the room with Blaise holding on to her tightly.

_All the while… (Pansy's point of view)_:

_I had to tell her, it's been gnawing at me for ages. I needed to get it off my chest,_ she thought to herself.

She lay back on the pillows and looked upwards; her party people had made the ceiling invisible, so she could see the stars and the moon above her.

Someone came up to her, and lay down beside her.

She was in the process of telling them to piss off when she saw the familiar blonde hair.

"Hey." she whispered.

"Hey" Malfoy replied, voice equally quiet.

He turned to his side, and faced her.

"You look amazing tonight," he whispered into her ear, mouth dangerously close.

The brush of his lips across her ear made Pansy flutter with nerves and excitement. She had missed this feeling so much…

_Draco's point of view:_

_Ok, what did Hermione write on her notes . . . _Draco pondered, attempting to recall the Head Girl's curly script on the muggle note cards he had found in his bag the other day. _Oh yes . . ._

**Always take your time, girls like it when you compliment them, and keep talking. They want to feel as if all your attention is on them, constantly.**

_Well then,_ he smirked, _I'll do exactly the opposite; she doesn't really know what a girl likes…does she? _

He rolled on top of Pansy, his body overlapping and fitting against hers, a perfect match.

"I've been meaning to do this for so long," he murmured.

_Pansy's point of view:_

She could smell the familiar scent of Firewhiskey on his breath. It made her gag, and she was sent reeling back into a memory from the past…a memory she had tried to block out…

_Running towards the Slytherin common room, she realized how late she was for her meeting with Draco. They had been going out for two months now, and they had planned to go outside into the grounds tonight, for some 'time alone', as Draco had whispered to her over breakfast. He had exited swiftly afterwards, leaving Pansy with a plate full of kippers, unable to eat another bite._

_They had arranged the details that morning after they had made out in the common room: adrenaline was pumping, hearts were racing and at that moment they never wanted to let go of each other, but unfortunately lessons got in the way, and that's why they had decided to have a special meeting. She smiled to herself, she really felt in love…_

_But she was 20 minutes late, being lectured by Professor McGonagall about how if she didn't pick up her grades she may be put down a year. The transfiguration professor clearly didn't understand the urgency of how Pansy needed to leave, so all she could do was hear her out and hope that Draco wouldn't get angry at her for being so late._

"_Traitor" she said, sprinting up to the hidden wall, and it opened up, showing the Slytherin common room inside._ _She ran up the stairs to his room by the Prefect's corridor, where they had agreed to meet._

_The smell of Draco's aftershave was making her want him so badly…she couldn't wait to see him. She pushed the door open…and her mind lost connection with her body. _

_Distantly, she could see Draco pushing himself off the girl, saw her screaming at him, felt as if in a dream her mouth opening and spewing out words, meaningless sentences. Ironically, the first thought that rang in her head was:_

_**My goodness. He could certainly do a lot better than Daphne Greengrass.**_

_The girl in question, Queenie Greengrass (no, not Queenie anymore, slut, cheat, whorescamptoad) was scrambling with her clothes and frantically dodging hexes Pansy belatedly realized were coming out of her own wand. She decided to keep them going._

_In a little corner of her brain, her mind was replaying the scene over and over again like one of those Muggle recorders. In perfect clarity, she saw Draco's hand against her breast, their legs intertwined, his mouth kissing hers with all the emotion of a robot, no passion, no love –_

_The exact same way he kisses me._

_(no not kisses kissed nomoretraitorheartbreakernomore)_

_And now he was touching her with those robotic hands (coldlikeice) squeezing her arms, making her drop her wand. Not before she smelled his breath, like bitter acid – and swore she wasn't ever going to drink. _

_Although that promise didn't end up lasting. Her theory was that drinking made her depressed, and drinking reminded her of Draco, and Draco made her depressed, and together, it was all one delicious swirl of painhatetormentanguish and she could drown in the blackness, and come to the next morning ready to go, all the bad exorcised out of her during the night._

_So her wand was gone, rolling somewhere under the bed, the bed that still had Daphne's red knickers lying on them (nononoslut), and Draco was talking urgently to her, that little crease in his brow that she loved so much turning up (nomusn't loveitanymoreit'sratheruglyinfact), and she couldn't be bothered to listen to him now, she'd been doing that for the past six years. Still in a daze, (maybe it was all a dream), she ran down the stairs again, a faint stinging telling her she must have tripped once or twice, pitying faces staring as she stumbled through _

_(nonoI'mPansyParkinsonneverpitiedalwaysfearedrespectedhatedneverpitiedno), _

_And then it was stone walls and portraits and the room of requirement – and then it was just Pansy, curling up on the floor and sobbing and covering and blocking and forgetting – this didn't happen to her, this hadn't happened to her, this wouldn't happen to her . .. no. She was Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin, and this did not happen to her. And that's all there was to it._

Reeling from the unexpected flashback, Pansy pushed the drunk boy off of her…she had been waiting for this moment almost all summer, but the unwanted memory made her realize all the pain she went through, and she wasn't ready to forgive him without a little bit more punishment. She needed to get back at him, she had to have her own little revenge on him, now that she knew he had feelings for her. That was what she did. That was who she was.

Draco stood up and looked at her with lust in his eyes (_justlustonlylustnothingmorenevermore)_, and walked away.

She closed her eyes.

When The Incident had _not_ happened, she had decided to tell the ex-clique members that they should unite again. She had used them as well; she needed them to show Draco that she could live on without him, she did have friends, and that she was beautiful. But she was a Slytherin, they had to understand it was in her nature to only do things for herself. She had used them all though…

Even though she told herself this continuously _(she had used them all)_, she was in the process of experiencing a new feeling to her… what was it called again? Oh yeah - …regret.

Blaise led Hermione up the stairs towards her dorm room. She could vaguely hear the arrival of Draco joining the group Blaise just left, but she was too upset to care. They walked up the stairs to her room; she assumed he was going to take her upstairs to put her to bed, and then go back to the party. They got to the landing, and she said;

"Thank you Blaise, it's really nice of you to - …" she was cut off by his lips crashing down on hers. She tried to get him off her, but he was too strong.

She was yelling into his mouth, giving him an opportunity to force his tongue into her mouth and it made her choke. As she was coughing in his mouth, Blaise pulled away.

"What's the problem?" Blaise laughed, "I thought you would like to get with a Slytherin! Maybe some of our superiority would rub off on a filthy mudblood like you!" and with that, he pushed her against the wall. He grabbed her wrists, and held them above her head against the cold stone. Hermione felt petrified, and as helpless as she had that time in the Department of Mysteries. She was silently praying that someone could come and save her. Anyone…

"Hey, why is Blaise going to the bedrooms?" a curious Draco asked, forming along the fringes of the Slytherin males. "Someone told me they were locked, and only opened to the Head Girl and Boy."

"Indeed . . . but the Head Girl herself was with him. She was upset about something. He's probably gonna screw her. Personally, I'd pick the Parkinson bitch. . Looks like a livelier fuck," someone casually said, wandering off in search of more liquor.

Draco didn't even register anything after "screw her." White-hot energy was pulsing through his head, and the only time her could remember being this angry was when his father was sent to Azkaban at the end of fifth year. A small part of his brain was asking why he was behaving so irrationally towards this piece of news, but the rest of him was only following one train of thought. If any Slytherin was going to defeat Hermione Granger in any way, it was going to be him. _He_ was the one with a personal grudge against her; the slap from Third Year still stung along his pride. Wasn't that fool Zabini aware that Hermione was _his?_

He blinked, and re-examined his last thought. _Speaking in terms of revenge, of course. _Of course.

The whole introspective thinking bit was working on his nerves, and he was getting agitated; should he go upstairs? No one would notice at this point, he decided, disgustedly kicking aside a snogging Thomas and Finnigan before heading towards the Heads' rooms. Perfectly calmly. Not rushing at all, he thought as he sped his pace to a run.

"Here Granger, drink this, it'll loosen you up," Blaise slurred, taking two fingers and lifted her chin upwards. Prying her mouth open, he poured Firewhiskey down her throat; she gagged, but had to swallow, or pass out. She suddenly felt much lighter, and almost fell over, but Blaise grabbed her around her waist and leaned in closer, and started whispering things in her ear, things that put graphic images in her head, and not in a good way. If it wasn't Blaise, Hermione would have really enjoyed it, but under the current circumstances, she just wanted to be in bed…**alone**.

"Blaise…please stop" Hermione slurred, but despite her vocal protestations, her body betrayed her as she rested her head on his shoulder, the effects of the Firewhiskey starting to kick in. _Well, not just Firewhiskey_, she realized, as she tasted traces of nightshade and belladonna, ingredients in a powerful drugging potion.

"That's right…" Blaise whispered when Hermione fell towards him. He kissed her not-so-gently on the forehead, and then across her jaw towards her lips. Hermione was too tired to stop him, but she needed somebody NOW!

_Ok, I'm going up there, I know how Zabini gets when he's drunk, turns into a total Gryffindor. With a sadistic streak. _Draco thought to himself.

He quickly bound up the last of the stairs, to find himself on the landing where the two bedrooms met.

He saw their shadowy silhouettes in the darkness: he had her pinned against the wall, her hands above her head. She looked vulnerable and terrified, and Draco tried to ignore the rush of protectiveness and arousal that swept through him.

He also saw Blaise covering her, kissing her… and that killed the latter feeling.

"Blaise...stop!" she heard her whimper. He didn't want Blaise hooking up with a Clique member when he had just been rejected by one. He had to feel superior in every way to any other Slytherin, and that also meant he had to have a prettier looking girl by his side. He couldn't let Blaise get her… which was why he was going to be a fuckin' noble knight on a white steed for a Gryffindor, he thought, shuddering. Well, metaphorically, at least. He wondered if his hair counted as the white part. One thing he knew: this could never be revealed. Unless he wanted to become the blonde version of Harry Potter, getting a line of first year Hufflepuffs at his door begging him to rescue their kittens.

"Blaise! Get the fuck of her!" Draco yelled, pushing the Slytherin away.

"What the hell is your problem?" came the reply from an extremely pissed off and drunk Blaise.

"She's a mudblood, dumbass, and besides…" he tried to think of something, "Some girls are giving out lap dances downstairs," he finished triumphantly.

Without an answer Blaise absolutely flew down the stairs, his only parting comment directed towards Hermione: "Fucking frigid bitch!"

He turned to face Hermione, who was swaying on her feet.

"Thank you so much, you…you saved me" she giggled, and she collapsed into his arms. He could instantly see the effects of Zabini's favorite drugging potion, and knew the girl wasn't in control of her body.

She was so close to him, though, this was his chance, he could get her. _And I could also_ _get back at Pansy for what she did_…he quickly added. He didn't want to admit the truth to himself yet. Not that he was sure what he was really hiding from himself… But good to always have a solid Draco Malfoy reasoning behind every action. Otherwise he might start following his feelings . . . not a good idea.

But before he could do anything, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him in for a kiss. A rather sloppy, drunken kiss, but a kiss none-the-less.

He could smell all sorts of foul things on her breath, and when they kissed, her hipbone dug awkwardly into his thigh. And their heads were at a completely wrong angle. All those things aside, though, it was a pretty damn good kiss. Before Draco could really enjoy it, it was over, as Hermione sagged into his arms, completely knocked out.

Draco smiled to himself. He had a drunk, beautiful, and obviously willing girl standing right in front of him.

He grinned; _now what should I do for the rest of the night? _


	7. What a Gentlemen

**What a Gentlemen**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the Harry Potter books,movie...etc, they belong to J.K Rowling.**

**A/N: Hey guys, I decided to update so soon after my other one, because I felt like I hadn't updated in a while before yesterday...sooooo, here you go! Please remember to review, it makes my day when I come home to an inbox full of reviews! Authors out there, you know exactly how I feel! Enjoy, byeeeeeee! x**

Draco picked Hermione up, carried her into her room and laid her gently on her bed.

What was the point of doing it now if she wouldn't remember anything the next day anyway? This time I will follow her advice and build on this slowly, Draco thought to himself, but what did he want to build on? A relationship? No it's just to get back at Pansy right?

Hermione was spread over the covers, looking like a model promoting a bed that Draco definitely would have bought had he seen the advert. She looked so peaceful, and the moment he laid her gently on the bed, she fell into an easy slumber.

For a while, Draco simply stood there and watched her sleep. He thought about his situation with unease. Was he was he actually falling for Hermione? Over the past few days they had been forced to talk more than usual and it had not always resulted in an argument. He liked the fact she could stick up for herself, and that she had determination and personality. Most girls just acted girly and cute so that he would fuss over them and defend them, but Hermione was different. And it didn't hurt that she was prettier now.

Well, more than pretty. Hermione was gorgeous and Draco, always the willing insurgent, wondered what people would think about him getting together with Hermione. There was always Blaise he had tried something with her as well, so Draco knew he wasn't the only one to think of it.

She was a mudblood though, and friends with Potty and Weasel to boot. And however stunning Hermione proved to be, Draco was still destined to be Voldemort's right hand man. Draco had a funny feeling that dating one of the Dark Lords adversaries wouldn't go over too well with the rest of the Death Eaters.

Draco stepped slowly towards the bed, bending down to brush a stray strand of hair from Hermione's face, gently kissing her warm cheek.

Then, he left the room.

X

The second the door clicked shut; Hermione's eyes flew open in shock.

What the fuck was that about, she wondered silently, struggling with her sleep-addled mind to sort out Draco's anomalous actions. But before Hermione could fully think things through, she fell into a sudden dreamless sleep that left her mind void of answers.

X

Draco walked downstairs to find the party slowly drawing to a close as people gradually filtered towards the exit.

As he immersed himself into the party scene once more, Draco heard people asking where Hermione had ended up. From what he gathered, the few people remaining wished to thank her for throwing such an awesome party. Not that anyone had bothered much with the clean up. Draco noticed that the room was littered with abandoned masks that had been discarded after the mystique of the masquerade had worn off, which wasn't such a terrible idea. It was always helpful to know who had been making out with, so you could speak to them, or try to ignore them the following day.

In one deserted corner of the room Draco managed to spot Hermione's elegant mask. Despite all of the trash and mess around it, the mask itself was positioned rather neatly by a few throw pillows and as Draco walked over to retrieve it, he began to wonder whether he was doing it just to be nice, or if he was doing it as an excuse to speak to her again. Drawing closer, he noticed two rather-rumpled figures lying on the floor in the same spot where he and Pansy had been only an hour or so before.

X

Pansy needed to get over Draco cheating on her.

The memory of that awful night had only made her realize that she needed to get back at him before she could forgive him. She had lost too much sleep; shed too many tears, to let him be forgiven without punishment. Without revenge. And Pansy had the perfect plan.

Even in the waning lighting of the room, Draco could make out Pansy's shadowy profile entwined with another, equally distinguishable character. They looked awkward and thrown together, but their actions were undeniable. They were marking each other with sloppy kisses, each one louder and more distinguishable than the last. Coming closer, Draco realized he had been holding his breath, desperate to prove himself wrong. But upon closer inspection, Pansy's cohort was undeniable. Blaise.

When Pansy kissed Blaise she felt a wave of relief surge through her body. She hadn't shown anybody this amount of affection since her break up and there was no question as to how good it felt. To be kissed again, to be wrapped in someone's arms again, and to feel loved again. It was amazing how much she had missed it. And now that she had done it, she realized exactly how much she wanted her partner to be Draco. So what if he had cheated on her, she had cheated on him too. And even though they weren't technically dating it still made the situation seem righted. Now at last they could finally get back together.

Pansy knew perfectly well that Draco was standing over her and the thrill she felt at the jealousy in his eyes was unquestionable. She wanted him to know that she still had charm and beauty and desirability.

And then, Pansy had another idea.

She wanted Draco to feel exactly as she had and so decided to step up the kiss. Smiling devilishly to herself, Pansy threw herself at Blaise, her hands racing to touch every part of him. His hair, his face, his chest. And it didn't take long for Blaise to follow her example, letting his hands roam freely at the expense of Draco, who looked ready to burst with anger. Pansy felt a twinge of remorse for him, but quickly pushed it away. After all, the further she went with Blaise, the more she forgave Draco for his indiscretion.

Draco, who had been momentarily paralyzed with jealousy, quickly reached over to grab Hermione's mask, shouting uncontrollably in the process.

'THIS PARTY IS OVER! EVERYONE GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE NOW!'

The people who remained cast confused and angry stares his way, but began to get up and move towards the door nevertheless. Draco glared at them all, waiting until he heard the two love-birds break apart to turn around and face Pansy who was looking suspiciously satisfied.

'Draco you know, this is my party, right? I think I should decide when people leave', she began hotly but suddenly lost her nerve when she saw the look Draco shot her. Staring uneasily down at her feet, Pansy began to mumble something about the clean up and how the morning would surely bring some clarity to things.

Draco walked away, leaving her faltering and alone, with the intent to start shooing people from the room, but his earlier declaration had remedied that and so he resigned to pacing the room, kicking at deserted pieces of trash and debris. Out in the corridor he could hear some of the more inebriated partygoers still laughing and making merry. Any other time Draco would have been out there joining them in their frivolity but this time was different. As Head Boy he would have to stay in his room and deal with the aftermath of the party.

Draco collapsed heavily into an arm chair to think things through. He began to understand Pansy's revenge for that was all it could be. Pansy wasn't a terribly bright complex individual and certain things were understood. She had been hurt by his earlier infidelity and was therefore attempting to right a wrong with a wrong. And although Draco understood this, he didn't necessarily appreciate it. And the more he mulled it over, the more he became enamored with the revenge tactic himself. She had done it to get back at him, but no Slytherin could take any form of revenge with understanding. In short, Draco was at a loss. He knew he needed to make her regret what she had done, and then they could be together, providing she understood her lesson in humility. Now if only he could think of something well, more like someone he could use to humiliate and infuriate Pansy.

Suddenly, it came to him. He knew exactly who he should use. Laughing at his own genius, Draco drifted into a contemplative slumber, dreaming of the days ahead.

X

Hermione woke up.

'Ugh', she grumbled, tumbling gracelessly out of bed. Fucking hangover.

Standing up slowly, Hermione made her way to the bathroom, all the while trying to ignore the dull pounding in her head.

When she finally reached the bathroom, Hermione was surprised to find the air still thick with steam and the tiles slick with water. Attempting to avoid the foot-shaped puddles dotting the floor, Hermione found herself wondering how Draco had managed to beat her to the bathroom. Even in her current state, she had been sure that she had woken up before him unless he had snuck out earlier.

Hermione had little time to think over this peculiarity though before her body begged to be soothed. So, locking the door behind her, she undressed with surprising speed, and stood in the shower. She was so exhausted from the previous evening that before she knew it, her own salty tears were mixing with the water running down her face. Even in her diluted condition she remembered Pansy's cruelty like a knife to the gut. They had all seemed so nice and genuine. It was inconceivable that they had all just been playing some huge joke at her expense. Still, Hermione found herself wondering how she could have been so blind to their tricks of course they wouldn't have wanted her to be a part of the clique without getting something in return.

And what Blaise had tried to do to her was simply awful. Thank god for Draco.

Hermione couldn't hide her grin when she thought about him.

He had saved her for one, and he was such a gentleman. Maybe not all the time, but he was definitely making improvements. Maybe he had changed, but I would expect something like this from Ron or Harry, but not from Draco, Hermione mused silently to herself. To his credit though, he had been raised in one of the proudest, aristocratic families she had ever seen, so maybe he did have some manners under his cocky facade.

But he had kissed her and that was too unexpected for Hermione to even begin to comprehend. What could he want with her? Sure he had been nicer to her since they had been working so close due to Head duties, but there were so many other girls who he could have gone for.

Times truly have changed, she thought mildly, we have been forced to talk more and I guess, we have been arguing less and less the past few days, but was it truly possible?

X

He could hear her taking a shower.

Draco had been up for hours, trying to think things through. And in his musings he had come to the conclusion that he indeed like Hermione. He was still a death eater though, and he had changed. On becoming a Death Eater, he realized how low he was in the chain of Voldemort's followers. He was younger, inexperienced and scared to really demand superiority and respect from the rest of them. He had learned to hold his tongue, and that had changed him…a lot. And besides, it wouldn't really matter in the long run, she would just be his girlfriend from school. He was destined to be with Voldemort, and above all he was a Malfoy. No girl could change that.

And its not as if I like her like that, Draco added hurriedly, it's to get at Pansy. That's right Pansy.

Not matter how hard Draco tried to remind himself of that simple fact however, he was finding it increasingly harder to focus on the revenge aspect of his plan. And he fully blamed Hermione. She was just slightly different than the rest. She was the girl he knew he could never have, but consequently wanted the most. She was so perfect, the smartest girl in school, the prettiest one around and he was a Malfoy. And Malfoy's always got the best. There would undoubtedly be speculation if they were to get together, but he had never really cared about what people had said about him.

Besides this was school. Just school. Not the real world.

X

Hermione wiped the condensation from the mirror and examined herself critically. She was a mess; there was no getting around it. Fortunately, it was easily remedied and after a few quick spells to get rid of the dark bags under her eyes, and style her hair in a casual bun, she was satisfied.

Hermione stifled a yawn and ventured from the bathroom to her room to collect her homework. She preferred studying in the common room if she was able (which, being the Head Girl, she usually was). It had the best books, it was quiet, and no one interrupt her there. It was the perfect safe haven.

So, in the pursuit of silence, Hermione made her way down the stairs, stumbling only slightly under the weight of her books.

Draco watched her approach, casually noting the way certain strands of hair fluttered sexily around her face and the way she was obviously having difficulty managing her load. Typical, Draco thought to himself, she's probably battling the worst hangover of her life and she still wakes up at the crack of dawn to study. Still, he stood up, unable to resist helping her, and saved several books from crashing to the floor.

She turned red, and muttered a quick thank you.

'Oh hell, that reminds me', Draco groaned, catching sight of one of her books, 'I have Ancient Ruins homework that I've been avoiding all week.'

He paused, as if caught in thought before dashing upstairs, only to return a moment later, his arms laden with his own books.

Hermione however didn't seem to notice this brief interlude, and had already seated herself at the table, quill in hand, her face buried in the Ancient Ruins book.

Draco joined her, spreading his work out on the table opposite her. A few minutes passed in silence.

'Hmm…'

Hermione breathed contemplatively, breaking the silence. When Draco glanced up she appeared baffled.

'What's the problem?' He asked, looking up towards her.

I don't understand this one Hermione admitted finally, pointing towards the problem in question. When she glanced up however, the last thought on her mind was the problem.

It was quite pleasant to be working so closely with Draco. He was probably the smartest boy in the year, and it was nice to be able to have an intellectual conversation with someone, even if it was just over a confusing homework problem. It surprised Hermione how easily just being together had been though to her surprise they had been together for an unprecedented thirty-six minutes before she had come across the particular nasty code.

Draco stood up, moving so that he was right next to Hermione before crouching down to assess the problem. Pulling up a chair, Draco plopped down next to her, and Hermione was oddly thrilled by the feeling their proximity inspired in her. It was the closest they had ever been to each other (with the exception of the night before) and the hairs on Hermione's arms were tingling expectantly. Expecting what she didn't know, but her gut told her that it would be worth it.

'Oh', he breathed and the sudden heat from his exhalation sent shivers down her spine 'It's actually quite easy, when you look further than what it says…'

Hermione knew he was explaining it, and she knew she should probably be listening, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from how elegantly his hand moved across the parchment when he was drawing notes. Sometimes he would glance up at her, as if to make sure she was still following, and even though Hermione barely heard a word he said, she continued nodding her head in agreement. Draco glanced up again and for a minute their

eyes met, something that startled both of them, yet neither could quite bring themselves to break the contact. After a moment however, Hermione blinked and Draco looked surprised, drawing away and heading back to his seat.

The rest of the hour, Hermione spent contemplating her feelings for Draco. He had obviously changed quite a bit and they hadn't been fighting as much. Since becoming Head Boy and Girl, they had somehow learned that they were capable of working together without killing each other. And he seemed to like her right? He had kissed her the other night. If he were to ask me out, Hermione thought vaguely to herself, and if he were to ask me out, then well, think about how mean he would be if I said no! Exactly, I'm doing this for my own safety aren't I? But I think, maybe we would probably get a long better if we were dating, and, and he is definitely not bad looking.

Then it struck her.

Pansy.

Payback time.

After that realization hit, Hermione found she couldn't concentrate and around noon decided that she had spent enough time staring at the problems before her and opted for an early lunch. She didn't feel like dealing with the hustle and bustle of the Great Hall though and decided instead to take her lunch outdoors to take advantage of the last few sunny days before the year's first snowfall. She was halfway out the door when a new thought came to her mind, and before she could think it through she was turning to face Draco who was still sitting at the table bent over his homework.

'It's probably the last nice day outside before it snows,' she said quickly, 'I'm going to go and have a picnic and if you want to come well, it wouldn't be terrible,' she finished, grabbing a book and walking quickly out the door.

'Wait!'

She froze, turning slowly to face her caller.

'I'm coming, let me just get some of my homework though.'

Draco rushed to gather his things, not wanting to miss one second with Hermione.

He joined her at the door, and together they walked outdoors, discussing their plans for the future after Hogwarts. Draco was surprised to find himself admitting his own uncertainties even though he knew he was destined towards the Death Eater line of work. It was mostly due to Lucius prompting of course, but a part of Draco also longed for the protection that working under the Dark Lord would provide. He would never have to worry about himself, as long as he remained loyal, and when the time came for him to take a wife, he would never have to worry for his family's safety.

Heading across the grounds, Draco and Hermione were surprised to notice that they weren't the only ones there. Several groups dotted the Hogwarts landscape and looked openly puzzled at the proximity of the two Heads, not to mention the distinct lack of bickering.

Lets go over there Hermione suggested, pointing towards the edge of the lake where a big oak tree stood. It seems quieter; she noted when Draco looked unsure.

'Good idea. Here let me take that,' Draco offered, silently berating himself for not taking the picnic basket and books she had been simultaneously juggling earlier.

'Thanks,' Hermione blushed shyly, allowing him to shoulder some of the weight.

'My pleasure,' Draco responded chivalrously. Manners after all, were essential in the Malfoy family.

They sat down slowly, leaning up against the oak tree, and unpacking the sandwiches. They stared out across the lake, both lost in thought of what the future would bring. What were they going to do when they left the gates of Hogwarts? The security and comfort of Hogwarts that they had always taken for granted was quickly dissolving and neither felt ready to face the real world.

And the war… they both knew it wasn't long till it would start.

The school was forcing everyone to leave for Christmas, because Hogwarts would be void of teachers and therefore unsafe, because everyone would out fighting and doing their part for the war. Hermione found herself anxious regarding her own uncertain future, although the foreboding had brought a new perspective as well. Faced with her own possible mortality, Hermione felt as if she should experience the most she could now in case she didn't make it. What if she never got the chance to do all those things she wanted to do when she older. Who knew what would happen to her during the war?

No regrets, she told herself. Carpe Diem.

She turned to face Malfoy.

He looked at her.

She leaned in closer.

It was all about taking a chance.

Should she take a chance with Malfoy?

**R&R!**


	8. Down by the Oak

**Down by the Oak**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the Harry Potter books,movie...etc, they belong to J.K Rowling.**

**A/N: Hey guys, one word: REVIEW! Hehe, well enjoy, and thanks for the people who did review :-)**

Hermione leaned closer, her stomach churning nervously before she pitched forward and promptly fell on Draco's shoulder.

She picked herself up, silently cursing her sudden fatigue, and leaned back against the oak.

"Sorry," she moaned, cheeks flaming, "killer headache."

Hesitantly, Hermione reached up and brushed her hand across her forehead to find that it was burning up. She moaned—_Parties, _she thought to herself, _great at the time, but shitty after effects_. Draco smirked jokingly at her, reading her thoughts easily simply by the look on her face.

"It's ok," he assured her, "you'll get used to it after a while."

"Yeah, you would know," Hermione shot back dryly, but her face entertained a pleasant smile. She had heard of the legendary Slytherin parties that were thrown regularly to celebrate…well, anything really.

"I've had my fair few," Draco admitted with a guilty grin. Hermione laughed out loud, looking only slightly embarrassed to admit her own feeble track record.

"This was probably my third" she said blushing. She had thought Draco would laugh at this but he only shrugged.

"That's not necessarily a _bad _thing Hermione," he allowed and Hermione was almost sure she could sense some hidden meaning in this. After a moment he broke into a wide grin though, all traces of depth and meaning gone. "You certainly know how to pick them anyway—this last one was definitely in my top ten."

"Well I'll take that as a compliment seeing as I helped organize it!" Hermione announced brightly, surprised at how much the accolade had brightened her spirits.

He turned to face her appearing slightly thoughtful.

"I suppose you did, didn't you?" Draco said quietly after a moment had passed. He found himself staring towards Hermione and after a minute their eyes locked, catching both of them slightly off guard. It was vaguely unnerving—not so much the fact that he was staring into Hermione Granger's eyes, of all people, but the fact that he enjoyed it so much. Draco had never spent much time observing Hermione in the past seven years, but if he had, he was sure he would have noticed how expressive her eyes were. Well, not only her eyes either, her whole body was wracked with expressive mannerisms that Draco was strangely intrigued by. The way her hands moved when she talked, the way her mouth twisted into a little pout of concern when she was working on something particularly confusing, the way she started to blink more when she was nervous—Draco could barely take his eyes off of her.

Hermione too looked oddly transfixed by Draco but managed to pull a way, blinking rapidly.

"Anyway, about those lessons…," she began suddenly and Draco had to pause a second to figure out what she was saying.

"Yes" he replied slowly, turning away. It felt like years ago that he had asked Hermione to help him woo Pansy. Now though, it all seemed so silly. He felt as if he had matured every day and was beginning to regret all of the mistakes and stupid choices he had made in the past. He regretted making fun of Hermione so much, he regretted turning all the other Slytherins (not to mention some of the darker Ravenclaws, and the more impressionable Hufflepuffs) against her, and he regretted never having noticed her before now, their last year. The thing he found himself regretting most however was asking for those stupid lessons. Draco had asked Hermione on a spur of the moment, whirlwind decision and regretted it more and more by the moment. It was so stupid really—he had seen Pansy on the platform, wanted to get her back, seen Hermione walk out of the train

compartment, and had randomly asked her for the lessons. If there was one word to describe his actions he knew exactly what it would be—ridiculous.

"Draco?" Draco jerked back into real life at Hermione's tone. She didn't sound _angry _per say, but it was obvious she had called to him more than once.

"What?" Draco bit out quickly, more startled than annoyed, but immediately felt bad when Hermione looked disheartened.

"I asked if you still needed them," she repeated quietly, her voice somewhat subdued and slightly more professional than it had been only moments earlier.

"Still needed what?" Draco asked dumbly, too concerned with trying to make Hermione feel comfortable around him again to make much sense about what she was saying. Hermione raised an eyebrow but made no note of his strange behavior—vocally at least.

"The lessons," she clarified softly, watching Draco with concern. Draco rushed to say no but stopped before he voiced a sound. If he admitted that he did need the lessons then Hermione would think that he still liked Pansy and she wouldn't give him a chance but if he said he did, then things could get…_interesting_. It was quite the challenge.

"Well I think one lesson should do it," Draco said finally, a sneaky smirk playing across his lips. Hermione looked slightly taken aback but nodded nonetheless

"Ok, well, uh," Hermione began awkwardly, struggling to find the right articulate, for the situation. She had been pretty sure that Draco had liked her, but if he still wanted help wooing Pansy—well, Hermione couldn't very well say no _now_. She had already agreed earlier, if she backed out on it now, then he would think that she had a problem doing it—_which I most certainly do not_, Hermione assured herself but even she had a hard time believing it. Something had definitely had changed between Draco and herself in the past few days, and although she didn't know _exactly _what it was, she knew it was for the better.

"Should we do it now, just get it out of the way?" Draco suggested and Hermione had to fight to keep the smile on her face. There were a hundred things Hermione would rather do at the moment but on the other hand, Hermione wanted to get it out of the way.

"Yeah!" Hermione squeaked brightly—too brightly she realized, because now Draco was staring at her funny. Silently berating herself for her unintentional perkiness, Hermione took a steadying breath and tried to rectify her intonation. "I mean, sure, if you want to," she managed coolly, leaning back against the tree and hoping that she didn't appear too ruffled by his suggestion. Draco, for his part, merely smiled at her and watched her trying to remain cool. After a second though she peeked at him and he realized she was waiting for some confirmation from him.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Right now is fine," he coughed and Hermione nodded, realizing to her dismay that she had leaned in a bit of tree sap. Frowning to herself, Hermione pulled away from the tree and turned her whole body to face him. His face looked so handsome against the background of the sun in the sky, and the Forbidden Forest trees—like the prince in all the fairytales she had read with her parents when she was younger.

"So um, where should I start…?" Hermione asked suddenly, shaking the image of Draco riding to her rescue out of her head. She had expected Draco to have to think about this for a moment at least, but he jumped right in with a question as if he had been waiting to ask her forever.

"What do girls want guys to do? I don't mean what they want us to say, but—well, what makes a girl happy?" Hermione paused, momentarily losing her breath. _Awww, he wants to make girls happy! That's so sweet—wait Hermione, you can't do this! You have to approach this lesson maturely. You can't apply everything to you! _She shrugged easily, staring at Draco suddenly.

"Well it's different for everyone—,"

"No, I understand that," Draco cut in suddenly.

"—I'm just doing this for what I like, so it isn't necessarily what Pansy will like," Hermione finished quietly. Draco nodded for her to continue, but when she tried she found it wasn't as easy as she had originally thought.

"Well, maybe its not for Pansy for anymore…" he replied sweetly.

It was awkward, but almost funny at the same time—one of those moments you didn't really _want _to share with anyone, but one that would inevitably bring you closer. It was like telling a crush you liked them—embarrassing, but necessary if you wanted anything to progress. For Hermione though, it was even more than that. It was a moment that they could share and remember, that didn't involve fighting. It was a nice change.

"Ok, um," Hermione began with a giggle; "Well girls like it when you don't act like a complete jerk to them in front of your friends."

"Oh, well that's deep," Draco smirked, rolling his eyes.

"Hey!" Hermione scolded, smacking his arm playfully. He looked shocked.

"What?"

"Do you want my help or not?" Hermione demanded, although her tone lacked all traces of ire. Draco smiled, pleased that she seemed to have relaxed slightly.

"I'm just saying, are you going to tell me something I can _use _or just tell me the basics?"

"Well anyway," she began again, ignoring his last comment "What else? Oh, I wouldn't go about _complaining _to a girl that's supposed to be helping you, that's a big one," Hermione teased, smiling as Draco pretended to be put out. "Oh yes," Hermione said, coming up with another point, "presents and surprises are always appreciated, as long as they're nice."

"What kind of presents?" Draco asked in what appeared to be genuine interest. Hermione paused.

"Something sweet, like a bouquet of roses, or…something that resembles how much you love them, but in a gift," she relayed thoughtfully. Draco nodded.

"Ok, got that."

"And, well, I mean, there's always when," Hermione paused, blushing furiously until Draco raised his eyebrows.

"Come on, spit it out," he coaxed and Hermione turned a startling shade of red.

"Well, girls like it, well when you know—they like the little things, like the odd kiss, and holding hands, and you being slightly protective and stuff…the little things that show that they are wanted," she finished and looked at him imploringly, as if she wanted him to understand something. She had just outlined exactly what she had always wanted in a guy and he couldn't seem to manage anything more than a perplexed look.

Finally, Draco stood up.

"Hermione—I, I think I need to think some things through," he stuttered out, turning to race back towards the castle. For a minute, Hermione was perplexed.

_What the heck was that all about?_

_Shit, shit, shit_, Draco thought to himself, racing up the stairs in record speed. He was used to girls liking him but this was too much for him. It wasn't so much how he knew she liked him—it was what he had seen in her eyes. _Lust_.

The poor girl didn't know what she was getting herself into. And neither, Draco thought to himself, did he.

_Well, I better go and see Pansy; might as well get this over and done with._

Hermione stood up and, with a flick of her wand, got her books and the remains her picnic basket to disappear to her dorm. It wasn't that she was lazy or anything—she just wasn't too keen on prolonging the Pansy-interaction-plan. So with one final glance around to make sure she had cleared up everything, Hermione smoothed out her clothes and went about locating the loathed girl. Fortunately, it didn't take long.

Hermione knew exactly where to find her.

It took Hermione less than five minutes to get to the room of requirement and even less time to get in, since Pansy and her partner had conveniently forgotten any attempts at privacy—the door was practically wide open. When Hermione walked in she found Pansy on top of Blaise. _Nice_, Hermione thought sarcastically.

Once Pansy saw Hermione, she jumped up from her rather compromising position, buttoned her top and shooed Blaise away, but not before giving him a farewell kiss that left Hermione feeling slightly dirty. Then, as if nothing had been amiss, she turned to Hermione, a cool expression on her face.

"Hey" she drawled calmly, looking as nonchalant as ever. Hermione fought the desire to roll her eyes.

"We need to talk about this," Hermione replied curtly, trying to restrain from yelling at the girl right then and there.

"Look, I made a mistake, I judged you wrongly. And now I told you the truth, and I apologize," Pansy spouted out quickly, her voice sounding strangled and strange. It had probably been the first time that she had ever said sorry to anyone, Hermione realized with some level of surprise, but it wasn't quite enough to put Hermione's heart at ease. How did she know if Pansy was genuinely sorry or just trying to avoid a confrontation?

Pansy, for her part, tried to look as sincere as possible. She loathed apologizing to Hermione, but she knew that without Hermione, the clique would split up, and she didn't want that to happen. The clique had made this year—her _last _year—so much more exciting and worthwhile. Without it, she would just go back to plain old Pansy, notorious for her impressive lineage, dark tactics, and for being caught a few too many times in dark corridors. So really, apologizing to Hermione wasn't a big sacrifice in the long run. At least that's what Pansy told herself to keep from adding some slur to her apology.

Stunned, Hermione looked at her. She hadn't been expecting this.

"Um, okay…," Hermione proceeded slowly, unsure of how to continue. "Uh, so what was that with Blaise?" Pansy smiled broadly—now _this _was more like it—and shrugged carelessly.

"Oh, well, it's kind of a long story, but I'm trying to make Drakie jealous, because it turns out I'm not really over the fact he cheated on me, so now I'm using Blaise to get back at him since he's his best friend." Pansy explained in one long breath. Hermione faltered, she was trying to control her laughter because of the idiotic nickname Pansy had given Draco.

"Oh, so—so you still like Draco?" She wondered, trying not to reveal anything about her newfound interest in the blond-haired boy. Her efforts were thwarted however when she felt a heated blush rise on her cheeks.

"Of course—why do you ask?" Pansy asked, starring over at Hermione expectantly.

"I was uh, just wondering, I guess," Hermione covered lamely, turning away from Pansy. She didn't give up so easily though.

"Why? Do _you _like him?" Pansy demanded teasingly, laughing at the thought.

"No!" Hermione cried out, a little too quickly. Pansy squinted her eyes questioningly at Hermione but turned away after a minute, shrugging this off.

"Well whatever, let's go now. I hope Blaise is giving Draco the details…it will kill him!"

Blaise was running towards Malfoy.

And when he reached him, proceeded to nearly tackle the boy with his energetic greeting.

"Hey, you never guess what, Pansy and I were just doing in the room of requirement and…" Blaise began in excitement but Malfoy wasn't listening. He had other things on his mind. Things like Hermione.

He had to tell Blaise.

"Blaise, wait—no, Blaise, stop talking for a second, okay? I have something important to ask you." Draco began suddenly, cutting Blaise off mid-sentence. The boy didn't seem to mind though, having noticed that Draco hadn't been listening to him since the near-tackle. Instead, he looked at Draco expectantly, waiting for elaboration. Draco paused. "But if I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone, okay? I mean, I will honestly kill you if you do," he warned. Blaise shrugged.

"You know you can always tell me anything," Blaise assured him, his voice taking on a distinct note of seriousness.

It was really one of those male-bonding moments.

"You know Hermione?" Draco paused to give Blaise time to nod, which he did after a moment of awkward silence. Draco sighed. "Well, recently I've been thinking, she's not _terrible _to look at, and I mean, she's really smart and stuff—and would it be so insane if I, well, you know…?"

For a minute, Blaise just looked at him. Malfoy would have added that he could then get Pansy back by dating her friend, but because Blaise was obviously involved he couldn't—and even if he wasn't—he wouldn't really tell him anyway….

"Well, she is a pretty little thing and all, but how much do you like her?" Blaise wondered skeptically. Draco sighed, his head falling to his hands. He had thought admitting it to himself was hard, but actually admitting it to someone _else _was pure torture.

"Enough to ask her out," he admitted, waiting for Blaise's backlash, but it never came. Instead, he heard what sounded like laughter. Glancing up, he was surprised to find Blaise's face screwed up with amusement.

"Hey, you would definitely piss off all of Gryffindor and Slytherin, so it works for me! And besides, I wouldn't pass her up either—that girl has definitely got everything going for her!" He said smiling, and punching Draco lightly on the shoulder. Draco sighed, relieved to at least have the support of his friend.

"Thanks Blaise," he said lightly, starting to walk away and trying to act as if it were nothing really. Slytherins, and perhaps more accurately, _boys_, didn't share 'close moments', but they both knew that Draco really did appreciate it.

He had made his mind up.

Now he just needed to find Hermione.

**R&R!**


	9. The Calm Before the Storm

**The Calm before the Storm**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the Harry Potter books,movie...etc, they belong to J.K Rowling.**

A/N: Hey, not much too say...R&R please :-)

Hermione was having a tough time.

She liked Draco a lot—there was no denying that—but nothing had really _happened_ yet. In fact, it was quite awkward most of the time. They would spend time together—sitting on the couch, working on their Head Duties, or making the rounds—but they wouldn't do anything beyond that. There was no hand holding, no whispered secrets, and no gentle caresses. Normally, Hermione didn't mind the silence—it was almost as if they didn't have to explain anything to each other, about how much they really cared for each other—but with Draco Hermione found the silence awkward and unnerving.

And then there was the Clique.

As time went on, Hermione found it hard to be with Clique and not tell them her secret. One part of her wanted to get back at Pansy, but on the other hand, she _had_ told Hermione the truth and apologized, and Hermione respected that.

And then there was the small matter of Pansy's reprisal when she found out the real reason Draco was ignoring her was because of Hermione.

"I just don't get it!" Pansy wailed, flopping dramatically onto a chair, "First Draco wants to get back with me and now he doesn't even seem to _like_ me!"

Hermione, Padma, and Parvati stood there silently, watching Pansy roll pathetically around in the chair, obviously furious. Hannah was supposed to have come too but she had managed to escape with Ernie before Pansy caught her in her dismal tirade.

_Smart girl, _Hermione thought bitterly, trying to catch a glimpse of the time without Pansy noticing. She had been there for over an hour listening to the same story over and over, and it was beginning to take a toll on all three members of her very unimpressed audience.

Pansy, for her part, didn't notice her three apathetic observers and continued her diatribe of Draco's recent actions.

It had started out so simply. Pansy had wanted to get Draco all worked up, so she had gone up to him, flaunting her most favorable assets in a way that was sure to get her what she wanted (at least according to past experiences). Draco however had feigned ignorance of her charms and merely walked away, mumbling something about having to talk with Hermione about some Head duty. Hermione had been elated, but she wasn't about to admit that to Pansy. Instead, she tried to offer up an alternative.

"Well, Blaise isn't that bad," Hermione chimed in, hoping to dissuade Pansy from her infatuation with Draco. Pansy sat up, pouting so deeply that Hermione would have laughed if she hadn't been afraid of Pansy's rage.

"I suppose Blaise isn't that bad," Pansy allowed, wiping the nonexistent tears from her eyes, "but I want Draco!"

"Look," Padma cut in, her tone dripping with annoyance. Like the rest of them, it was clear she was hoping to get out before the night was over. "Why don't you just stay with Blaise for now otherwise it will be too obvious you were using him, and that would mess with your reputation." When Pansy looked unconvinced, Padma rolled her eyes and added a hasty, "And Draco is probably ignoring you to protect your feelings because of the war and stuff..."

"I suppose," Pansy agreed sullenly, slightly put off at the realization that the girls were eager to get away. Padma didn't look bothered though, examining her nails with blatant disinterest.

It was clear to everyone—Padma especially—that Draco had absolutely no feelings for Pansy, but it was best to tell her that. It would only give her an excuse to go into a frenzy about how she was ugly or something equally stupid and insecure. The safest bet was just to tell her something that would make her feel good and allow her to fawn all over herself.

Parvati on the other hand, had stopped looking to Pansy and started peering questioningly towards Hermione. She had noticed that over the past few days Hermione and Draco's relationship had changed from mutual dislike to something much more intimate. She was pretty sure that they hadn't actually done anything yet—Hermione was never really good at hiding things (her face tended to give things away)—and she was sure if something had happened, she would have heard about it somewhere. But even if nothing had actually happened between the two, Parvati was almost positive that something would be happening—and _soon_.

"But I want to get together with him _before _the war starts!" Pansy revealed after a minute of silence. Things had somewhat settled down and she was getting annoyed with the lack of attention.

"He's probably just stressed because of the war. Everyone is," Hermione offered weakly and Pansy had to agree.

There was no use denying it. Lately it seemed that all anyone could talk about was the impending combat. Couples who had been together since first year, had broken up because one of them felt as if they were to die, or get hurt, and didn't want the other to suffer. And on the other end of the spectrum, people had started getting together randomly because no one wanted to die without loving someone.

People were scared.

Even Harry had become increasingly nervous due to the uncertainty regarding the prophesy. Hermione could hardly bear to be with him because he was constantly depressed, and the few times he wasn't, he was off practicing with the Order.

Ron had also undergone a considerable change, although his wasn't so much depressive as annoying. He suddenly found it important to spend as much time with Ginny as humanly possible—and act that Ginny herself was not too fond of considering she wanted to spend her possible last few weeks with her boyfriend. When he wasn't dogging Ginny, Ron chose to spend his time in the library practicing curses and jinxes as he wanted to be as prepared as possible, for when the war would come.

Although the teachers hadn't come out and said it specifically, most of the older students were expected to participate in the war as much as they could. Those who weren't involved were expected to do something else to contribute to the cause, regardless of the side they chose (or, in many cases, the side their _parents _chose for them). Regardless of the changes though, one thing was clear. It had never been this bad before.

Draco was a mess.

Out of everyone else, Draco seemed to be taking the strain of the upcoming battle the hardest. It wasn't just that he was conflicted about what side to pay his allegiance too—his father had made it blatantly clear that siding with the majority of his classmates was not an option. In fact, he had been getting coded messages from his father, regarding attack strategies for the past few weeks. It was more of the fact that he didn't know whether or not he would be able to face his classmates as a Deatheater. It wasn't Potter or anyone he was really worried about either, and considering all of his friends were supposed to be in league with the Deatheaters, he shouldn't have felt so conflicted. His father had made it clear that anyone who mattered would be on their side, but there was one person that Draco knew would not be on Voldemort's side.

Hermione.

According to preconceived plans, Draco knew exactly when the war would start and end. He had a specific role and knew exactly what he was supposed to be doing and when. The only problem was that now he was beginning to have his doubts. It was true that Lucius—in a rare moment of paternal obligation—had taken Draco aside and explained that he may feel slightly apprehensive before he was actually supposed to fulfill his duties as a Deatheater, but Draco had a feeling it was something deeper than that. He wasn't scared of fulfilling his obligations to the Dark Lord; he was scared of _not _fulfilling his promises to Hermione.

Not that he had said anything to her.

As much as Draco wanted to share his feelings with Hermione—for she was the only person who he thought would truly sympathize with what he was going through—he didn't dare say a word to her. She was good. He was bad. And as much as he wished the opposite, he was strangely drawn to her.

Draco didn't know exactly when, but it seemed that a mutual understanding had settled among them. They liked eachother. That much was obvious. The only problem was that Draco didn't know where to go from there. He didn't want to treat her like any other girl—and certainly not the way he had treated Pansy. And as much as he wanted her, he didn't want to draw her in only to break her heart when she found out who his loyalties were to. Who his loyalties _had _to be to. Draco sighed, letting his head drop in his hands.

Who knew love would be so hard?

It was late in the evening when a 5th year knocked on the door of the Heads Common room.

Hermione and Draco, who had been staring silently into the blazing fire, jumped at the noise and startled, looked towards eachother. Winter holidays were a week and a half away and each day brought more and more anxiety for staff and students alike. It was as if everyone was walking on pins and needles, waiting for the other shoe to drop. And now, Draco and Hermione feared that it had.

Hermione, who was quickest to regain her senses, raced to the door and threw it open with so much force that it rattled precariously. She paid it no mind, but the 5th year raised his eyebrows.

"Yes?" Hermione asked hesitantly, unsure as to whether or not she wanted to hear what the kid was going to tell her.

"This is from Professor McGonagall," he said quickly, handing over a slightly crumpled note and scurrying down the hallway with impressive speed. Hermione barely got a chance to comprehend the action before the boy had disappeared completely, leaving her standing in the doorway with the note in her hand. She unfolded it and read carefully.

**Attention All Hogwarts Students:**

**We have to set up an immediate emergency meeting in the Great Hall. Please report as soon as possible. Attendance is required.**

"Oh no," Hermione whispered in horror. She turned to Draco, who had been reading over her shoulder and was currently as white as a sheet, and bit her lip nervously. "You don't think it could be—," she paused, unable to go on.

As soon as she had spoken, a cold, dark fear swept through Draco's eyes, and he nodded his head dumbly. He had expected action soon, but not _this _soon. It was too early—things weren't supposed to be starting yet! Hadn't his father told him to remain at Hogwarts under all circumstances? The other Deatheaters were supposed to collect him the school, but he hadn't anticipated the school forcing him out!

"Let's go," Draco croaked; his voice strangled and uncertain. Hermione only nodded, at a complete loss for words, and allowed herself to be led down to the Great Hall for the meeting.

The Great Hall was dead silent.

Everyone was sitting like statues, looking both pale and terrified. The moment everyone had been worried over for months had finally come. It was no longer a thing of the future, it was part of their present and that was petrifying.

McGonagall stood up.

Everyone turned to face the headmistress, wide-eyed and curious. The Slytherins, Draco noticed, seemed to look as confused as he did. Most of them he knew had also been fed bits of information regarding attack plans and this latest infringement seemed to flout everyone's plans.

"Students," McGonagall began gravely, her tone void of all fear. She knew how scared everyone was and there was no use getting them more worked up. She had to show them that she was strong and that they would be alright. Her heart though was beating a decidedly different beat and seemed to betray her plans to keep her own fear subdued. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "The staff at Hogwarts has decided to close the school this week before the planned holidays. The school needs to be evacuated immediately in case there is an attack planned for the scheduled holiday. In order to be as efficient as possible, we will evacuate according to class. First years will leave today, second years tomorrow, and so on and so forth."

Minerva paused, looking around to see if people understood her.

"Fifth years and above do have another option of accompanying the teachers and learning how to fight and defend our side, or choose to leave for home some time during the week. Either way, it is not safe at Hogwarts and everybody, will leave this building."

She paused again, her old eyes sweeping the Great Hall. She had seen hundreds of students throughout all her years of teaching, but never before had she seen any group of students looking so honorable, so proud and as strong as she did now. Even the youngest first years were sitting bravely, heads held high despite the obvious fear emanating from each student. She had never been prouder.

"If any student does _not _wish to fight, you may get permission from your parents to be collected sooner or wait your turn to leave the school with other remaining students from your year." Minerva turned and nodded towards Draco and Hermione who had not bothered to segregate themselves in the Great Hall and had sat next to eachother. "As Head Boy and Head Girl, Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger will be here all week to provide guidance and aid to all students and make sure that all is in order while most of the staff has left."

She took a breath, continuing on tirelessly.

"The arrangements for tonight have already been made. First years, please follow Hagrid to the train—your luggage is waiting for you there. At this time, second, third and fourth years may return to their dormitories. In a few minutes your prefects will be up there, and if you want to get collected by your parents, then I suggest you contact them as soon as possible."

On that note, McGonagall nodded to the students as if to dismiss them, and stepped down from the lectern. The students took the que and moved quickly. Within a matter of seconds, the first years had been ushered away and most of the other students had disappeared to their dorms. Hermione knew that most, if not all, of the school would be gone that night. Those who didn't leave that night would surely be gone within the next few days. She however, would be stuck at Hogwarts for a while.

McGonagall waited until all of the dismissed students had left before stepping back up to the lectern and eyeing the remaining scholars.

"Those of you who wish to join leagues with the staff, please remain seated. The rest of you may return to your dormitories." There was a pause as students stood to leave. The majority of Gryffindor stayed put, except for a few girls, Lavender and Parvati included. Most of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff remained as well with a few exceptions.

The entire Slytherin table stood to leave. McGonagall sighed and turned back to the students who remained.

"To those who have remained seated, I wish to thank you, as well as warn you. War is no joke. This is a matter of life and death, and if you are scared, and have second thoughts, I suggest you leave now."

A few people stood up and hurried from the hall, ashamed of their cowardice. McGonagall watched with a tight smile on her lips. They were all children. Just helpless children. They shouldn't have to face a war and the death of friends, and the horror that combat wrought. She sighed.

"All of you who remain will be escorted to a new location tomorrow morning. You have tonight to say goodbye."

Hermione bit her lip to keep from crying. She wasn't naïve enough to think that everyone would come out unscathed. In books, good always won, but in real life, things didn't always work out like that. There was no telling whether or not she would even make it out alive, much less her friends. Harry, Ron, Ginny—what if she never saw them again? She would be ignorant to say that they weren't in the most danger. They would undoubtedly be the first targets. What if this was the end? She couldn't let them go without saying goodbye.

While the rest of the hall stood up to say their goodbyes, Hermione dashed off to find her friends.

--------------

_Poor girl_, Draco thought guiltily, watching as Hermione made her way to the Gryffindor trio-turned-quartet, _she'll probably never see them again_.

For his part, Draco made his way up to the Slytherin common room. He wasn't worried that people would question why he had stayed in the hall—he could always lie and say that McGonagall had forced him because he was Head Boy. As it turned out, he didn't need to have made the excuse anyway. When he got to the common room, it was completely deserted.

_Nice, the first chance I have to get out of school early, and I'm stuck here_, Draco complained inwardly, flopping onto a common room couch. Any normal Slytherin would have seized this chance to go, and their parents would undoubtedly have agreed to let them come home, seeing as most were somehow connected with the Death Eaters. Draco felt slightly sad, glancing around the empty room. So much would change after the war. _Hell, so much has changed now and we're not even in the damn war yet_. He could help wondering if he would live to see the day when the school would be reunited with its students. He hoped so….

"Oh Harry!" Hermione cried, holding him in a close hug, "You can't go!" Hermione turned to face her redheaded companion, pulling him in close as well. "And you too Ron—you're all too young! What if you die? You can't leave me here, please!" She sobbed childishly. She knew it was immature, but didn't they see it was killing her? She couldn't go to fight with them, to protect them, to _save_ them.

"Hermione, you have to get a grip!' Harry snapped, although he too was fighting to keep back his own tears. He wasn't afraid of death, but what it would do to the others around him.  
We have to do this—we've always known this. You have a responsibility too though—you have the responsibility of looking after the students."

"I—well, I didn't—," Hermione stopped. Harry was right.

"Look Hermione, this is our last night together at Hogwarts. Instead of arguing, maybe we should enjoy it," Ginny suggested tiredly, hoping to calm down the rising tensions between her friends.

"Good idea!" Ron laughed, "I suggest skinny dipping in the lake! Well, except for Ginny that is," he joked. Hermione cracked a smile through her tears and reached out to smack his shoulder playfully. Ron feigned resignation and sighed. "Fine, why don't we all just go to the common room then," he groaned good-humoredly and joined his friends as they trudged up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room. All of them were smiling, but they couldn't get rid of the feeling that this may be the last time they would all be together.

The next morning came too early for everyone, and Hermione awoke with a feeling of dread. She had spent the past evening reminiscing with all of her friends, reliving each and every memory they had together, and falling asleep in one big pile on the common room couch until the cruelly-time morning sun awoke them all. Hermione felt sick.

The time had come for them to say goodbye.

Hermione's eyed were filled with tears, and Ginny was trying to be strong, but tears crawled along her cheek while she was telling Hermione how much she would miss her, and how they would celebrate when they saw each other again.

Hermione turned to Ron, and hugged him.

"Ron, all those arguments—I'm just, well, I wanted to say that I'm so sorry," she choked out, flinging herself into his arms. He held her close, whispering that everything would be fine in the end. He promised to look after Harry, which made Hermione giggle, and she gave Ron a kiss on his cheek. He turned bright red, and started staring at his feet. As Hermione pulled away from Ron, she took a deep breath in preparation of her last goodbye.

Harry.

"I don't know what to say to you," she squeaked out, wiping her eyes, "you have no idea how happy I am that you are my friend, and whatever happens to you, I will always be here for you. I won't ever understand what you have gone through, but don't forget, I will always be here to help you." It was weird, Hermione realized as she hugged Harry close, but this could be their last goodbye ever.

This was it.

Later, when the gang had all left to make their contributions in the war, Hermione walked upstairs to the Heads common room. She felt so lonely without her friends, and having the castle so empty was weird. It was true that she hadn't seen her friends as much as she wanted in her seventh year—Heads duties had kept her away—but the mere fact that they were all there, available when she needed them, had been comforting. Now, she felt alone.

Well, not completely alone.

Walking into the Heads common room, Hermione immediately spotted Draco sprawled lazily over the couch. He turned when he heard her come in, shooting up when he caught sight of her face. She was obviously upset.

Standing up, Draco moved over to Hermione and automatically took her into his arms. She melted against him, burying her face in his chest. He could feel her warm tears soaking through his shirt, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was next to him, safe and secure, and he wasn't about to let her get hurt. He knew how upset she had been over having to stay at the castle, but Draco honestly couldn't have planned it any better. It was the perfect way to keep an eye on Hermione and make sure she wasn't doing anything stupid like risking her life for Potter. Leaning down, Draco gently kissed her forehead, and drew her closer. Without realizing what he was even doing, Draco found himself leaning down and whispered comforting things into her shock of brown hair. It was a while before either realized that this was the closest they had ever been. Hermione relaxed immediately. Her friends may have left, but she still had Draco. Someone to hold her, someone to protect her, someone to comfort her.

Someone to love her.

Hermione turned her head up to him, her eyes meeting his own silvery orbs. Then, before she could think or begin to analyze her actions, she found herself leaning upwards to kiss him. Their lips connected softly, her mouth brushing gently against his before catching him in a passionate osculation. It was the closest she had been with anyone in her whole life and every nerve in her body was on fire. She was prepared to do anything if it would make her feel better. She needed this.

She needed him.

**A/N: Hey, tell me what you think! xx**


	10. Perfect

**Perfect**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the Harry Potter books,movie...etc, they belong to J.K Rowling.**

**A/N: Hey! Well here's the next chapter! Hope you like it, and if you have any comments/suggestions, tell me! Byeeeee! x**

Hermione and Draco stumbled blindly for a minute before Hermione felt the hard stone wall crash sharply against her back, assuring them both that they would be well-supported.

Hermione reached up, tentatively weaving her hands through Draco's silky hair as he grabbed her roughly around the waist and dragged her closer to him, sending an electric shock surging throughout Hermione's body. It was the most intimate moment she had ever shared with a boy and the situation was both thrilling and terrifying.

Still grasping on to one another, the pair stumbled through the room, tumbling messily onto the couch in a tangle of limbs. Hermione was surprised to find herself somewhat on top of Draco, her limbs jutting into him awkwardly, although oddly enough, the two of them seemed to fit together rather well. Hermione smiled.

"I wish I had done this sooner," she whispered in a deep, raspy voice she never even knew she possessed.

Draco smiled, delighting in the tingling that the tone sent shooting down his spine. Wrapping his arms around her slim shoulders, Draco pulled her down gently, answering her question with another kiss.

Hermione and Draco stayed entwined together for the next few minutes, enjoying the feeling of eachother for the first time. Hermione, who had never done anything _remotely _like it, began to think distantly of her parents. They had always been supportive of all of her endeavors, academic and otherwise, but she couldn't help but think that this wasn't the kind of situation they would approve of. For the first time in her life though, she didn't care one bit. It was exactly what she wanted. After a minute however, Draco pulled away, burying his face in Hermione's bushy hair.

"You know," he began huskily, "we have a whole _week_ together." Something in Draco's tone was overly suggestive and made Hermione blush hotly.

Snuggling into him, Hermione allowed him to adjust their positions so that they were on their sides, Draco's arm wrapped tightly around Hermione's shoulders. _Thank God it's a wide couch_, Hermione mused silently, figuring that even if it was a tiny couch things wouldn't necessarily have to be worse.

"I'm so glad we do," Hermione supplied after a minute, figuring the situation warranted a reply of some sort. Draco smiled contentedly, trying to conceal his somewhat-obvious arousal at the sudden proximity of Hermione. Hermione didn't seem to notice though, as she had closed her eyes and wiggled even closer to Draco, delighting in the warmth of his breath on her neck which made her want him even more. After a minute, Draco propped himself up on his elbow, staring down at Hermione who looked so vulnerable and beautiful lying below him. He wanted her so badly it was ridiculous. Who would have thought that after all the years of insults and taunting they would end up like this? Certainly not him.

"You know I'll be here for you—if you ever need me," Draco admitted seriously, wanting to make sure that she understood his commitment to her. She purred contentedly under the declaration, batting her long lashes up at him. Draco reached out, pushing back her hair to expose her creamy white neck. Then, leaning over he connected his lips with the spot just below her bottom jaw, moving upwards slowly until he reached her beautiful lips. Hermione beamed, tingling with every kiss, as a pleasurable shock passed through her entire body.

In response to his actions, Hermione turned so that she was facing him. He looked so protective, and so handsome, that Hermione didn't realize why she had never noticed Draco before. It was true that he had had an inclination towards bullying, but one would have thought that she would have noticed _something _about him, even if it was just in passing. Reaching up to give him a final kiss on the lips, Hermione buried her head into his chest, preparing for the peaceful night ahead.

* * *

Upon awakening, Hermione was startled to find her bedside companion was none other than the boy who she had thought hated her for the majority of her formative years. He was a mere inch or two away from her, his warm breath brushing against her neck. Hearing Hermione stirring next to him, Draco opened his eyes and smiled at Hermione's sleepy gaze, smiling drowsily at him in the gentle morning light.

"Good morning," Draco greeted sleepily, reaching out to wrap a strand of Hermione's hair around his finger.

"Morning," Hermione smiled, rolling slowly off the couch and righting herself, carefully smoothing out her wrinkled robes. "We should probably go see what's going on though."

Draco made a mock-agonized faced and copied Hermione's lead, standing up off the couch and straightening his robes. "If we must," he groaned, following Hermione as she made her way down to the Great Hall.

* * *

The halls were oddly quiet—like walking through an already-war-torn area, minus the bodies and carnage. Hermione kept expecting to see people—the first years idling around the entrance to the Great Hall, waiting for their friends to join them before walking in, the fifth years talking loudly as they walked through the halls in gaggles and the inevitable pair of lovebirds, tucked not-so-inconspicuously into a corner. It was strange without all of them around and Hermione found herself walking closer to Draco because of it. She didn't know what she expected—warmth, love, reassurance?—but she knew whatever it was, Draco was currently fulfilling it. So it was with no hesitation that the pair walked in to the Great Hall, fully anticipating a crowd for breakfast. Because even if there was an evacuation going on, people would still have to eat anyway. The ones staying behind, at least for now, right?

Wrong.

As Draco reached out to pull open the doors to the Great Hall, both he and Hermione were surprised to find absolutely no one there. Hermione glanced quickly over to Draco, who was swiftly walking up through the tables, to where the staff usually sat. He reached the table, and turned to face Hermione, waving a note in front of her.

She scurried up towards him, eager to know what was going on.

As she ran up through the empty aisles, a pang of guilt swept over her. She hadn't spent one moment since the departure thinking about Harry, Ron or Ginny. She looked up towards the ceiling, which was now foggy, small snow drops falling down, permanently suspended in the air as salty tears formed into her eyes in remembrance of everything that happened since she had last been there.

Draco saw her stop, and hesitated before walking over to her. He knew that she would take the evacuation hard, especially with all of her friends leaving for the war, but he didn't quite know how to approach her. Would she even _want _someone coming over to her or would she prefer to be alone? Draco didn't know, but ambled over anyway, eager to help in any way he could.

Hermione swayed slightly, the full significance of the events hitting her all at once. She needed to sit down, and let it all out. She needed to cry about it, to be comforted, and then live her life the way she had always done; with laughter and happiness.

"I just—how—why did this have to happen?" Hermione moaned miserably, crashing into Draco's looming form. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she continued to sob unreservedly into his robes.

"It's ok Hermione" Draco encouraged, patting down her fluffy burst of hair and rubbing her back soothingly as if reassuring her that things would be alright.

The pair stayed there, wrapped in eachother's arms until Hermione had stopped crying. It felt good to be with Draco, to be with someone who would keep her safe and stay close for as long as she wanted.

"Draco," She murmured, almost more to herself than to him. He shushed her, helping her to her feet and allowing her to compose herself slightly before presenting the letter.

Hermione straightened up immediately and asked, in squeaky voice,

"So, you want to read it or should I?"

"I'll do it," Draco said, leading her to one of the benches by a deserted table and sitting her down carefully. Then, when he was sure that all was okay, he cleared his throat and began.

**To Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy:**

**I am pleased to tell you, that although this week was supposed to be busy for you, is now not so, because all the students have left. On being informed that they would be evacuated, most students decided to leave immediately. So you are free to leave tomorrow evening. Please tell your guardians that they will have to collect you.**

**Sincerely,**

**Minerva McGonagall**

Draco put the letter down, grimacing at the implications. If Hermione's guardian (which would most likely be Molly Weasley seeing as her own parents were Muggles) came to get her, it would mean that Draco would have to spend the remainder of the week alone, since his father would wait until then to collect him. This meant of course one thing.

They only had tonight together.

"So—are you going to leave tomorrow?" Draco asked hesitantly. Hermione nodded, beaming.

"Of course! I might even get to see Ron, Harry and Ginny!" Draco nodded, finding his hand with hers.

"So, I guess that just leaves tonight then," he intoned suggestively. Hermione felt her face go beet red as the full meaning of this comment sunk in.

"I suppose it does," she replied after a moment's hesitation, willing her red cheeks to disappear. Draco smiled at her and the two slowly made their way back to their common room, Hermione's stomach churning nervously with every step she took. Once they were back in the room though she seemed to calm down a bit, watching as Draco went about creating the ideal ambiance.

"Well then, dinner is served!" Draco announced brightly, flicking his wand so that food immediately appeared on the table in front of them. The lights went out, only to be replaced by various, well-positioned candles. The fire was roaring, and a table appeared in front of them, with plates, cutlery and a gorgeous white rose placed in the middle. It was romantic. It was _perfect._

Draco offered his arm, and Hermione took it, as they walked slowly over to the table.

"Oh Draco," Hermione whispered, unable to articulate the surge of emotions she felt. Why couldn't Ron or Harry do something like this?

* * *

Hermione was about to start thanking Draco for the umpteenth time, as he waved his wand and the table disappeared, but she was cut off by his lips crashing down on hers.

"I've wanted to do that all evening," he admitted, pulling away and smirking sneakily at her.

Hermione laughed, returning his kiss with one of her own. He was just so—_surprising_. How had she not realized him before? Well, it may have been because he used to be an asshole, she reminded herself, but quickly pushed that thought out of her head. She didn't want anything to spoil the mood. Things were just too—perfect. The lights were dimmed, and the fire was blazing, the aroma of the room was overwhelming. It was a glorious feeling, being there, being loved by somebody. Hermione felt on top of the world.

Before she knew it, they had made their way to the couch and were on top of each other, kissing fiercely.

Draco paused for only a moment, looking into her eyes, asking her if she wanted to carry on, to go any further….

Her eyes responded with a blaze of confidence.

**Hope you liked :)**


	11. You Look Great

**You Look Great**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the Harry Potter books,movie...etc, they belong to J.K Rowling.**

**A/N: Ok guys, just to let you know, that I got my beta, the lovely 'pink-levicorpus' author of one of my favorite's, Sed Quis Ipsos Custodes', and you should definitely check it out, but anyway, she wrote this chapter for me, and you should thank her, not me for her talent in writing**

Hermione was only slightly aware of the change in Draco's demeanor after she answered his silent query with a suggestive fierceness to her eyes. He became rougher, his mouth crashing over hers with more determination—a great submission of self-control than before. It was as if he had been keeping himself on reserve, not wanting to push her into anything that she didn't want, but not fully trusting himself to have his way with her and not press for more than she was willing to give. Now that she had accepted his soundless proposal though, all hints of self control were gone and Draco was free to give himself wholly to the thought of her.

Hermione, on the other hand, was reeling from her acceptance. She wanted it—she truly did—but that didn't ease any of the anxiety that had built up in her stomach. She had always dreamed of this; wondering how it would be, with who (which, looking back, she was slightly embarrassed as her fantasies had usually incorporated Ron or Harry in some way), and how it would happen. Now that she was caught up in the moment though, the information was pelting her brain in a spastic reign of gunfire, punctuating fleeting thoughts with short, clipped answers. One part of her wanted to say something—to talk to Draco for a minute and analyze what was going on and what would change because of it. The other part of her however was perfectly content to allow the feeling of Draco's hot body against hers to render her perfectly incapable of all intelligible speech.

"Are you sure about this?" Draco asked hurriedly since the situation seemed to warrant some sort of second confirmation. Hermione moaned slightly, her acquiescence muffled by Draco's fevering kisses, for which he was eternally grateful. If she had pleaded a change of mind, Draco doubted he would have been able to stop himself. He was too far gone; caught up in the heat and passion emanating between himself and Hermione.

If Hermione had thought about it—which she was apt to do—she would have realized that this was undoubtedly her biggest fear. It wasn't so much the actual idea of making love to a boy she had always thought she hated, more than it was the fact that she was doing it _at school_. For years she had feared the consequences of taking something a little too far—between her shenanigans with Harry and Ron or fighting Voldemort—the fear of expulsion or suspension keeping her carefully in line. This though—she was sure was grounds for suspension, except for one tiny detail.

No one was around to know.

There would be no interruptions—no fear of discovery, no nosy teachers or snooping prefects, determined to catch the Head Boy and Girl doing something wrong. They were blissfully alone and Hermione was prepared to take advantage of that fact as much as she could.

"You are so beautiful," Draco murmured feverishly, marring her lips with tiny kisses. Hermione blushed hotly, unsure of how to respond to this. Was she supposed to say thank you? Was she supposed to return the compliment? She wasn't sure, but found herself thankful that Draco's mouth on hers kept her from having to come up with an intelligible response.

Just as Hermione was beginning to wonder whether or not Draco was planning on taking things any further than the fierce kisses he seemed determined to plant in various locations around her anatomy, she felt his hand slide slowly to the small of her back as he gently repositioned her beneath him. Hermione stared, wide-eyes and breathless, into his own silvery orbs that seemed determined to do this right. If the moment had been anything other than what is was, Hermione was almost sure she would have laughed aloud at his befuddled expression.

Draco was so close to her, his heavy body covering every hot inch of her own. Hermione bit her lip, wondering how exactly to proceed. In all of her dreams she had pictured the kissing and then the actual lovemaking—she had never paused to give thought to the actions needed to move from one action to the other. Thankfully though, Draco seemed to be taking all necessary measures to ensure the smooth—if not slightly awkward—transition between the two.

"H-Hermione you're so—," but Hermione would never know what Draco was going to say because it seemed that at that moment he was overcome with such emotion that he was rendered completely speechless. She had, Hermione realized with a smile, a certain control over him that was both intoxicating and empowering. And suddenly, it seemed her body knew what to do.

Hermione's hips arched slightly, pushing into Draco as he struggled to undo the buttons of her blouse simultaneously with those of his pants. He was remarkably swift in removing her blouse (which served to make Hermione a bit dubious—exactly how much practice had he _had_?) but his subsequent awkwardness with his own articles of clothing made Hermione laugh.

"I want—I can't—Hermione I can't go slowly," Draco stuttered out breathlessly, desperately trying to take his time and make the moment special for Hermione. Her eyes burned wickedly.

"It doesn't matter," she decided firmly, surprising herself by reaching up to strip him of his own shirt. She tossed it aside quickly, eager to feel his hot skin on her own. It was electrifying.

"I've wanted to do this for so long," Draco admitted, pulling Hermione closer to him so that she was pressed so tightly against him that there was no chance of escape for either of them. Hermione nodded her head wildly, unable to voice the reciprocated passion she felt towards the blond boy. Spasms of desire powered through her body, rendering her short of breath, unable to speak and unable to string together a coherent thought.

Draco's motions were uncontrolled and erratic as he attempted in vain to move as smoothly as he could. It wasn't like he didn't have experience with girls—he was actually a little ashamed of his track record with women—he had just never done anything that really _mattered _before. All of the other girls had been quick, easy deals where no love was brought or lost. Hermione though was completely different from anyone he had ever been with before. He wanted things to be special with her—to be _meaningful_. He wanted her to remember her first time as something amazing, not something to be quickly forgotten and pushed aside.

Draco had never been more thankful for the incredible control his father had taught him to keep over himself. As a child, during the painstakingly long exercises his father required as proper upbringing, Draco had loathed him, but now, as he bade himself to think of Hermione's needs over his own, Draco found that he was silently thanking his father for teaching him such command over himself.

However, even the most trained soldier has his breaking point.

"Hermione—I," but Draco couldn't finish his sentence, because Hermione chose that moment to exhale softly, a tiny moan of pleasure escaping her lips and all of Draco's self control went out the window.

Draco slid into her roughly, only half-aware of the groan his hurried actions elicited. Hermione's entire body went rigid and when she opened her mouth to say something all that came out was a raw, unadulterated moan of pain and pleasure. She grasped at his shoulders, her nails digging fiercely into his bare skin as she struggled to keep a straight thought in her head. After all her efforts at reason she could only come up with one thing.

She wanted him.

Hermione groaned Draco's name and then yelled it as he moved in and out of her with a fumbling awkwardness that could only be present in the coitus of inexperienced teenagers. It didn't work to hinder the pure exhilaration of the moment though, and after a final thrust Draco pulled out, collapsing in utter exhausting on top of Hermione's heated form.

For a moment, neither Hermione nor Draco said anything, instead breathing heavily in an attempt to regain some form of composure over themselves. Then, Draco moved slightly, rolling over so that he was lying _next_ to Hermione rather than on top of her, on the couch. Both shuddered immediately, unprepared for the coolness that the absence of proximity provided. Then, slowly, both teenagers began to regain feeling and grasp the enormity of the situation.

"Hermione—I, I just wanted to say," Draco paused, his voice unusually choked and awkward. Hermione shook her head.

"You don't have to say anything."

"But I _want_ to," Draco assured her, turning so that he was facing the bushy-haired girl. She looked back, her cheeks flushed with exertion, her brown eyes questioning. Draco swallowed slowly. "Hermione—I just wanted you to know that I've done that a lot—,"

"Oh gee, thanks," Hermione teased sarcastically, but Draco continued, undeterred.

"—but it's never meant as much as it did just now, with you."

And with that sentiment to blanket the couple they drifted into a peaceful slumber, entwined lovingly in eachother's arms.

* * *

Hermione woke up to a sharp pounding on the common room door.

She was both surprised and confused, and jumped up off the couch, suddenly aware of her own nakedness.

"What's going on?" Draco grumbled, sitting up sleepily on the couch. He too seemed slightly surprised to find himself so obviously undressed and reached out immediately for his own discarded articles of clothing.

"Someone's here," Hermione said quickly, shimmying into her pants and grabbing for her blouse. For the first time, Draco glanced to the door and realized that it was, in fact, being beaten rather harshly, and stepped up his own efforts at dressing.

"Who?" Draco asked, his mind still fuzzy with sleep as he stepped into his pants and grabbed for his shirt.

"I don't know," Hermione admitted, patting down her hair that was wild from sleep and the rather savage actions of the night before. "Here."

Draco looked up just in time to catch the undershirt that Hermione had located for him and was intent on returning. He grinned in thanks.

"Okay, how do I look?"

If Draco had been thinking any more clearly he would have told Hermione that she had skipped a button on her blouse so it was oddly off-kilter and her hair was clear evidence their earlier actions, but considering the fact that Draco was just as tired as she was, he merely smiled, nodding.

"You look great." Hermione could barely contain a smile, but suppressed it long enough to make her way to the door. Throwing it open though gave Hermione a new reason to smile.

Molly Weasley.


	12. For Me?

**For Me?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the Harry Potter books,movie...etc, they belong to J.K Rowling.**

**A/N: Hey guys, managed to update quite soon, dont ya think:P lol, R&R**

"Good Morning Hermione," Molly greeted curtly, pushing in past the two stupefied Heads so that she was in the middle of the shared commons. She glanced around, as if expecting to find things all packed up, before glancing back to the two heads. "You better hurry up if we want to leave soon. Do you have your stuff ready? We need to leave—the sooner the better."

Molly stared disapprovingly at Hermione, taking in her disheveled appearance and then slowly at the Slytherin standing next to her. She had raised too many kids—_boys _in particular—not to know what was going on, but she looked as if she was having a difficult time getting it through her head. No way would Hermione have done anything like that, and definitely not with Draco Malfoy. Even if she hadn't borne witness to the various tiffs between the two, she knew there were no plausible grounds for a relationship.

Hermione merely smiled at the bafflement on Molly's face and glanced over to Draco who was smirking devilishly. It was funny to see Molly looking so perplexed for once, since most of the time she was in total control. Or, at least she thought she was.

But thankfully for the moment, Molly didn't seem to be accepting the truth, and therefore received the pithy excuse Hermione offered, allowing the girl to go gather her stuff in silence.

Hermione raced to her room, silently berating herself for not packing earlier and set about throwing things into her open trunk. She didn't want to leave anything that she might need later, but then again, she didn't want to pack everything up only to return in a week or so. Since Hermione had no clue how long the evacuation would continue, she was at a loss for how much or how little to pack.

After a moment, Hermione felt Draco come in behind her and spun around.

"Want any help?" He asked, sniggering to himself about the distress on Hermione's face. Her first thought was to instantly say no, but the reality of the situation hit hard.

"Yes," she sighed, throwing her school books in her trunk.

Draco simply waved his wand, and like a magnet, everything Hermione needed flew into her trunk. Slightly embarrassed for not having thought about it herself, Hermione mumbled a quick thank you. With the task complete, Draco turned to Hermione, stepping so close to her that she could feel his breath tickling her neck.

"I hope I'll see you soon," he murmured, sliding his hand up to rest on her jawbone.

"So do I," Hermione whispered back, kissing him quickly on the lips before walking out the door. She didn't want Molly to get any more suspicious than she already was, but even as she left, Draco couldn't help but notice a small tear running down her cheek and feel relieved at the fact that they wouldn't see eachother until after the war. Because if Hermione _did _see him during the war, she would finally know the truth.

She would know he was a Death Eater.

Against everything she was fighting to survive for. He could already see the disappointment in her face….

And with that depressing though in his mind, Draco walked back into the common room, and stared outside, his warm breath steaming up the cold window. He could already see Molly and Hermione running towards a few other people waiting for them outside the gates, her trunk zooming behind them.

Draco sat down in the recently-deserted commons, and picked up a rather huge book Hermione was in the process of reading. _War and Peace_, by Leo Tolstoy. _Well I suppose this will last me the week,_ he thought to himself, as he spread over the couch. He opened the book, and began to read. But with every page, he could only think of one thing.

Hermione.

* * *

"Hermione Dear, hurry up! We have so much to do, and so little time!" A more-than-tired Molly Weasley chided, dragging Hermione along by the arm. Hermione was having trouble keeping up with Molly's huge steps to get outside the grounds.

But when she saw who was waiting for her, she ran passed Mrs. Weasley with speed she never knew she could manage, and threw herself into their arms. Ron, Harry and Ginny along with some of the other members of the Order were there.

"What—what are you guys doing here?' Hermione asked wildly, slightly out of breath from her sprint, "I thought you were supposed to be training!"

"We are! But we asked to be let off this afternoon, to see you!" Ginny explained brightly, pulling her friend into a bone-crunching hug. Hermione mewed adoringly and pulled the three of them into another tight hug.

"Plus, we figured we needed to rescue you from a whole week alone with Malfoy—who knows what terrible things you would have done to eachother without any supervision!" Ron joked, elbowing Hermione slightly in the ribs. She tried to smile, but found the whole comment increasingly uncomfortable, and hastened to change the subject.

"Well thank you all, but what am I supposed to do for the next five days?"

"Well," Mrs. Weasley cut in briskly, "I'm afraid you're going to have to stay with me. Everybody helping us fight the war is coming to Grimmauld Place, so we need to cook, clean and do all the household things, so that we're all healthy before," Molly paused, staring at her two children and Harry before continuing on, "Before we fight."

Hermione sighed, she would much rather be training with Harry, Ron and Ginny, than be cooking for upwards of fifty people.

"I'm sorry to cut this short you guys," Lupin said, walking up from across the grounds, "but this isn't really the safest place to be having a chit-chat, we need to go to Headquarters."

So on that note, the six friends walked over to a strategically placed Portkey and were on their way to Grimmauld place.

* * *

Hermione looked around. It was completely busy, and with a rush of reassurance, she thought about how many people were prepared to fight for what was right.

Harry, Ron and Ginny pushed her forward to the upper floors. Climbing all the way to the top, they walked into what Hermione thought was probably the only empty room in the house.

"I'm so happy to see you again!" Hermione said for the umpteenth time that day. Harry, Ron and Ginny smiled at their friend, although their smiles turned bittersweet when Ron recalled a small fact that had been lingering in their minds for a while.

"Well, it's only for an hour or so, then we have to leave again," Ron pointed out.

Hermione tried not to act disappointed, and pointed out, that at least they were seeing each other now, rather then not at all. And with that, they decided to make the most of the time they had.

"So, what you three been up to?" She asked, and all of them launched into the specifics of training, headquarters, and the upcoming battle.

"Things are so hectic—,"

"We've already done so much—,"

"Dumbledore's Army was such a help—,"

"—now we really _are _an army—,"

The three began, competing to talk over eachother to tell Hermione about their experience so far. And for a moment, with the four of them talking and laughing, and Harry with his arm around Ginny and Ron pretending not to notice, it was just like old times. Hermione smiled; glad they were all back together, even if it was only for an hour.

* * *

As soon as her three friends left, Hermione didn't have any time to be upset because Molly called her into the kitchen.

"Hermione, be a dear, and cut these potatoes for me," Molly instructed, placing a potato and a knife into Hermione's idle hands. Then, leaning in and lowering her voice, she whispered, "And keep and eye on Tonks—you know how clumsy she can be in the kitchen."

"Of course," Hermione agreed, turning to face a newly-emerging, pink-haired Tonks.

"Hermione!" She greeted brightly, "how've you been?'

"I've been alright, you?" Hermione returned with equal enthusiasm. There was something about Tonks that made it impossible to be miserable.

"Oh, I'm fine. You know. I heard you got Head Girl! Congratulations!" She smirked, looking up at Hermione.

"Yeah, thanks," Hermione grinned in embarrassment. Tonks however didn't seem to notice.

"You know, when I was your age, I was _desperate_ to be Head Girl, because the Head Boy was Thomas Pearl, the _cutest_ guy in our year, and you know what they say the Head Girl and Boy get up to!" She teased, dropping a plate on the ground. She glanced up to see if Molly had noticed and, finding that she hadn't, quickly brushed the pieces under the table.

Hermione laughed, slightly unnerved by Tonks' earlier comment. She wondered whether or not she should tell Tonks about Malfoy, but before she could reply, Tonks went on.

"But from the looks of you, you don't really need to be Head Girl to get a guy," she noted, glancing Hermione up and down. Hermione blushed, having completely forgotten about her transformation. It felt like years ago. She blushed slightly.

"Long story," Hermione sighed.

"Save it for later, trust me—it gets pretty boring around here."

"Why aren't you training, or working with Order?" Hermione wondered, trying to change the subject from herself. Now, it was Tonks' turn to blush.

"Well, ever since Remus and I got together he's been really protective about me fighting and stuff. He said he'd rather me be safe for now, and fight later, than risk getting hurt before it all happens." Hermione smiled. She knew Tonks was crazy for Lupin; she'd do anything for him.

"That's so romantic," Hermione noted thoughtfully. Tonks laughed.

"Yeah—but its ultra annoying." The two fell into a short silence before Hermione looked down at the unpeeled pile of potatoes before her.

"I guess we better get started on these before Molly has our heads," Hermione laughed, slightly distracted. All she could think about was how romantic Lupin was, and about Draco.

Would he do the same to her?

Every time an owl flew in, or the door bell rang, Hermione hoped it was Draco, and every time she was disappointed. As if on cue, the doorbell rang once more and instantly Hermione's heart when into overdrive. Silently she kept hoping it was him—_praying _that he had come.

"Hermione! Someone's here to see you!" Hermione's heart sped up faster than she ever imagined it could. She looked up.

_For me?  
_

Was it…? Could it be—? She didn't dare get her hopes up. Instead, she dropped the forgotten potato and ran to the living room to see who had come for her. When she arrived in the hallway she froze. Her heart stopped.

_Oh my god. _


	13. Last Time

**Last Time**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the Harry Potter books,movie...etc, they belong to J.K Rowling.**

**A.N: Heyyy! Thanks to the people who reviewed, and I have a question to you guys...how much longer should I make it, how much more do you guys want to read? And if you have any other comments/suggestions, just leave me a message ;-) Well hope you like! xx**

Hermione's head was reeling.

What the hell was Viktor Krum doing here?

"Her-mi-oh-knee, how have you been?" He asked in his thick Bulgarian accent.

Hermione, trying to bite back the disappointment in her stomach, choked out some phatic bit about what had brought him to the house.

"Vell, I vas going to ze training, and I just stopped by here, to zay hello to you!" He explained brightly, moving to pull Hermione into a friendly hug. Hermione merely stood there, too shocked to reciprocate and too disappointed that it was Viktor's arms around her and not Draco's to feel much of anything. Fortunately, Viktor was oblivious to Hermione's aversions.

Tonks however, was not.

The minute Hermione had come into the hallway and caught sight of her visitor, the bright smile spread across her pretty face had fallen, leaving her void of all emotion. Hermione almost appeared disappointed with the surprise, and so Tonks was quick to make an excuse to whisk Hermione back to the kitchen.

Hermione, glad for a reason to leave, walked back towards the kitchen, smiling gratefully as Tonks explained to a baffled Viktor Krum, that 'now was not the best time to come for a visit'. Hermione walked back over to the sink and picked up the discarded potato, preparing to peel it once and for all. She was not sorry to hear the door close as Viktor continued on his way to the training, but she did feel kind of bad for her flippancy. She had been so disappointed at not seeing Draco standing there that she had seemed to loose all functioning abilities. Hermione sighed to herself and resolved to apologize to him if they ever ran into eachother again.

Hermione was so involved in her own miserable musings that she didn't even notice Tonks' return until the woman was right behind her, hands on her hips.

"You have some explaining to do young lady," Tonks began in a jokingly-condescending tone, "I thought you two had a thing for each other."

Hermione turned to face her, sighing dismally to herself. Ever since she had realized her feelings for Draco, she had longed to share them with someone. Harry and the gang were out—they would assume that Draco had put some spell over her or something. Her parents too were out as Hermione longed to tell them the details of her private life like she longed to be thrown into a cage of hungry lions. Besides them, there was really no one else. Not to mention that everything felt trivial compared to the war. She was bursting to tell someone how her heart was aching for him—and it seemed as if this was the perfect chance to tell Tonks.

So she did.

* * *

_I wonder what she's doing now_, Draco thought to himself, stretching out on the empty common room couch. After an exceptionally boring day of reading he had actually managed to finish the book and was now left with nothing to do.

Draco had never truly been alone and he found that he didn't much enjoy it. Between the Manor where his mother and various guests of his father were permanent fixtures and school where there had always been hundreds of people hanging around—even if none of them were actually his friends—he had always been around people. Even on those rare occasions from his childhood when his parents had both gone off some reason or another, there were always nursemaids and other staff members bustling around the house. And now, Draco was experiencing something completely different.

Loneliness.

It wasn't so much that he hated not having people around—the silence was actually a nice change. The problem was that the solitude had a tendency to inspire thought and his thoughts kept returning to Hermione. Hermione, who was really the only girl he had ever truly cared for, and how just when he had her, she had left. Granted it wasn't her fault—they knew they were supposed to be parting ways long before they even thought about eachother as anything more than acquaintances—but that didn't eliminate any of the pain at losing her.

Draco's stomach hurt from how much he missed her. He was sick with the realization that at any moment, while he was lounging around the castle devil-may-care, Hermione could be hurt or sick or attacked. Or, Draco realized, his stomach sinking even further.

She might be dead.

* * *

Hermione couldn't believe that it was almost Christmas.

There were no decorations, no holiday cheer, and no promise of festivities. In fact, with the war tension growing every day the last thing in the house was joy. Everywhere around her, all Hermione could hear was talk about the war and when it would finally happen. And as if to put the final black spot on Christmas day, the war was slated to start Christmas morning. How everyone seemed to know this bit of information, Hermione would never know. It was the unofficial commencement of activity, although Hermione guessed it would be less than jolly.

Hermione couldn't help but feel isolated from everything, even if she was staying in the middle of everything by staying at headquarters. And, as much as she hated to admit it, she really wasn't devoting herself to the cause as much as she would have liked. It was just so hard to make sure there was enough food and that all the potatoes were properly peeled when she hadn't heard from Draco since her untimely departure.

When Hermione had explained her story to Tonks, she was filled with an indescribable relief at having finally told someone. It was as if it made the whole situation real, and not some figment of her overzealous imagination. And best of all, Tonks had understood. She had smiled, comforting Hermione in regards to Draco's safety. Despite her efforts at remaining cheery about it though, Hermione could tell that Tonks was slightly baffled about the fact that it was Lucius Malfoy's _son_ who Hermione had chosen, but, to her credit, she never said a word about it. It was the last thing Hermione would have wanted, and so instead of questioning that bit, the two engaged in a girlish exchange that was dampened only when Molly came in, demanding to know whether or not the soup was close to being finished.

* * *

Draco was getting restless.

Three days had passed and all he could think about was Hermione. It was driving him crazy—all he wanted to do was be with her. He needed her so badly. According to the mental calendar he had been keeping in his head since Hermione's departure, he only had one more day of solitude before his father collected him, and although he couldn't wait to get a chance to see Hermione, he knew he wouldn't really be able to at all. For days that had been his only comfort—the promise of reuniting with Hermione—but now that it was drawing closer he realized that he really had no actual chance of that happening. The war would end—and then what? Worries plagued Draco's head. Who would win? Would Hermione die? Would he be caught? Would she find out? And even if the war did turn out okay and everyone returned to finish the year at Hogwarts—would Hermione even _want _to be with him again?

For the first time in his privileged little life, Draco was feeling insecure.

For his entire life, Draco had know what he was destined to be, whom he would be with, and how he would live his life. Now though, he was at a loss. Everything he thought he had known had been shattered in the course of a few weeks. And that terrified Draco. He had one day until his father came to collect him, and then he would be powerless to stop the events from cascading from there.

The beginning of the end.

* * *

The tension in the house increased as the days rolled by.

Everyone was ready, or at least they thought they were, but each day seemed to prove how unprepared they really were. No one had a clue what they would be up against, and judging by the looks of their faces, it didn't look too good. Hermione however, found that with each day she was worrying less and less. It didn't seem real to her—as if the entire thing was some elaborate ruse meant to ruffle a few feathers. It couldn't seriously happen, could it?

Glancing outside, Hermione smiled at the snow drifting softly down to the ground. She closed her eyes, and thought about how things should have been. She should have been spending the holiday with her parents, relaying every minute detail about school life and her various adventures, or Harry and Ron's latest endeavor. It should have been lovely.

Thoughts about her family caused Hermione to wonder about their safekeeping. Had someone thought to notify them? Surely if Voldemort was keen on hurting Hermione, he wouldn't have ruled out slaying Muggles to achieve his goal. Too anxious to think about it, Hermione shook the thought from her head and turned back to the soapy dishes as Remus Lupin walked into the previously-empty kitchen.

"Hermione," he began quietly, his voice laced with concern, "are you ready for tomorrow?" His posture was relaxed and his face looked calm but his eyes easily gave him away. They were laced with worry and flicked anxiously around the room.

"Tomorrow," Hermione repeated, as if getting a feel for the word in her mouth. It was the day she'd both dreaded and waited for. It was when she would go to war, but it would also give her a chance to see Harry, Ron, and Ginny. And maybe even a certain fair-haired Slytherin. Remus didn't seem to notice the nostalgic veil that had suddenly fallen over Hermione's eyes, so he continued with his spiel.

"Well, I have to tell you what will be going on then. Most of us are already," he paused, jerking his thumb towards the frosty window, "– out there. But me and a few others will be escorting the rest of the fighters out there. We will leave early tomorrow morning, so make sure you're ready," he warned. Hermione bit her lip.

"Will I see Harry—?" Hermione began, but was promptly cut off.

"If you see him at all it will be during battle. There will be no time for chit-chat when we arrive."

"So," Hermione began, trying her best to fully concentrate, "we get there and we just—,"

"I suppose we just get straight to it," Remus supplied wearily and Hermione could tell he had never been trained for this. He was a scholar, not a warrior.

The pair sat in silence, ignoring the persistent thought that this may be their last time together. Hermione was beginning to see the reality of the war and faced her own mortality with a nervous stomach. She began to reflect on how much each of her friends meant to her, and how much her family meant to her. Every time she thought of them being gone forever, it made her want to cry. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt herself feel more upset and depressed about the whole situation until she couldn't stand it any more. She wished the war would never come, and now that she understood there was no way getting out of it, she couldn't wait till the storm would pass over.

"I guess we should be getting to bed now," Lupin began half-heartedly, taking a stand. Hermione sighed.

"I suppose so."

Hermione stood up to leave, heading straight for her bedroom.

Her heart felt heavy, as if she was going through the motions one final time. _This could be the last time I brush my teeth…this is could be the last time I brush my hair…this could be the last time I sleep in a bed._

But when she curled up in her bed, and tried to fall asleep, she couldn't help but think.

_This won't be the last time I cry._

* * *

Draco was pacing up and down the great hall.

He had said that he was coming at nine thirty, but now it was closer to nine forty and there was still no sign of his father.

Draco hadn't managed to get any sleep last night, and he was desperate to get out of this eerie castle. After four days of no noise, and solitude Draco felt himself going slowly insane. It was like being isolated in a cage, but the door was open. He could leave—but not really.

Walking up and down again, he heard a pounding on the door.

"Draco, are you there?"

He swung open the door, and there he was. His father.

"You ready?" Lucius asked with the trademark Malfoy smirk.

"Of course," Draco said, trying to mind his temper at his father's mocking indifference. He had always done this type of thing but that didn't make it less annoying every time.

"Then let's get moving."

Together, the two Malfoy men trudged out of the castle and over the freshly fallen snow. And despite his newfound hatred for the old castle, Draco couldn't help glancing back and wondering whether he would ever return.

Fortunately, he didn't have much time to be sad, because once off the grounds, Lucius spun around to face his son.

"We apparate from here and then we will separate. We are there for the Dark Lord, and ourselves. Don't risk you life for another, unless it's our master. We won't be working together Draco—every man for himself. So when we arrive, we find our own directions. This—this will be the last time we will see each other before the war."

Malfoy's weren't really the best people with dealing with emotions (save for Narcissa who could pitch a fit with the best of them, although she was really only a Malfoy in name, so she didn't count), but at that moment, Draco could sense how proud his father was of him, and how he would miss him if they were never to see each other again.

Slightly embarrassed and a little too stiffly, the two embraced each other, something Draco was not entirely used to. It didn't last long, and before Draco fully had time to understand the gesture, Lucius straightened up and pulled away.

Funny the things war could make you do.

* * *

"Everyone ready to leave?" Kingesley Shacklebolt asked, addressing the rather impressive crowd.

Everyone nodded dutifully, staring stone-faced towards the front of the room. The silence was nerve-wracking, and it made Hermione feel uncomfortable. She noticed she was the youngest one there. It didn't help her with her self-esteem.

"As ready as we'll ever be," someone called out, eliciting terse laughter from the crowd.

"Ok then," Shacklebolt continued, not missing a beat. "Everyone pair up with somebody, and we will tell you when you can go outside."

Hermione looked around, but before she could choose someone, a witch in her thirties took her arm. She looked like a strong and independent woman, and Hermione felt a rush of reassurance as she looked up at her.

"You look a little bit lost," she commented softly, then, with a smile, she shrugged, "but I suppose we all do." Hermione smiled weakly.

"You two," Kingsley boomed over the hall, pointing at Hermione's group.

Hermione scuttled forward, the witch following her.

"Hermione, Angelina, you will work outside, and once you have stepped on to the pavement, you will be transported."

The witch took Hermione's hand and squeezed it.

"You'll be fine," she whispered. Hermione wasn't so sure. But she couldn't let Angelina know her fear. So, with a determined gulp, Hermione nodded.

And together, they walked outside.


	14. Exhausted

**Exhausted**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the Harry Potter books,movie...etc, they belong to J.K Rowling.**

**A/N: Hey, well here is the chapter! Not much more to say...byeeeee! x**

Hermione couldn't believe that things were finally over.

Exhausted, Hermione trudged along the bloodstained battlefield. All around her lay shadowy silhouettes, lying in bloody trenches of snow. There were mounds of blood and dirt and bodies, and in the bare branches of nearby trees sat crows, hungry for the taste of rotting flesh. They crowed loudly, angry, high-pitched wails that punctuated the eerie silence of the deserted battlefield.

It was the most horrifying experience Hermione had ever had.

There were so many people—so many bodies dead or moaning for help. So many people crying out for salvation and forgiveness—and so mangled that it was impossible to tell which side they had originally supported. Hermione longed to help, but there was nothing she could do. She was near to death herself.

Hermione stumbled around aimlessly, trying to find someone—_anyone—_who might be able to help her find a place to go. She couldn't seem to find anyone to help her though as everyone seemed to be nursing their own injuries. Everyone seemed to be in the same position she was—injured or searching the battlefield for lost friends and companions.

Up ahead of her, Hermione could dimly make out a forest and instead of walking around with no purpose or direction, she decided that that's where she needed to be. Stumbling forward, Hermione started towards the foliage but found that she was too exhausted even to continue and fell roughly to the ground. Pulling up her robe, Hermione grimaced and noted the impressive gash in her leg from a protruding root. Over the course of battle, Hermione had fought numerous Death Eaters and had dodged several Unforgivables—all of which made her leg wound pale in comparison. It wasn't so unimpressive though that it didn't bleed thoroughly, a fact that made Hermione wonder whether or not it was just the work of the root. Steady drops of blood fell from her wound, and, grabbing a fistful of snow, Hermione traced is across the cut. When the icy mess touched her skin she cried out and a searing pain swept across her leg.

She was so tired, and desperate to sleep, but she was too scared to close her eyes and leave her as an easy target for some remaining Death Eater. As much as she didn't want to be a sitting duck of a target, she also could barely keep her eyes open. Her mind seemed to have shut down, and Hermione wondered whether she would ever be able to get up again.

Lying down in the cold snow embankment, Hermione's body slowly began to relax, her pulse relaxing in tandem with her beating heart. She couldn't bear to think about being attacked or which one of her friends could be dead or dying—instead she just closed her eyes and settled down. She honestly didn't care whether or not she lived or died—according to the most recent accounts, most of the fighters from both sides had been killed—all she cared about was sleeping.

This however, was not an option.

Moaning with pain, Hermione stood shakily and stumbled forward towards the woods once more. _Just keep going_, she coaxed mentally, keeping her eyes trained on the forest ahead. She had to get there—she _would _get there if it was the last thing she did.

Blinded by her raw desire to achieve her goal, Hermione didn't even notice the body in front of her until she tripped over it. Moving shakily, a sick feeling rising in her throat, Hermione glanced down to see the victim. It was Angelina, the witch who had reassured her she would make it. But now Angelina hadn't survived. It didn't do anything to raise Hermione's moral.

"Oh god," Hermione sobbed to herself, realizing the true impact of the war. Reading had never led her wrong, but in every book she had ever picked up, good triumphed over evil. This however, proved the exception. Everyone—good and bad—was dead. Well, most everyone anyway. _How are Harry and Ron? What about all the other students from Hogwarts, are they ok? And the Weasley's_—a whole list of people Hermione loved developed in her head, and at the moment, she had no idea of what had happened to any of them. She felt slightly angry, whenever she needed to know something, she would go to the library—but now, she was kept in the dark. It was infuriating knowing that there was no one out there to help her, and she had no idea what to do.

So Hermione kept walking.

But after a few minutes she fell on to her knees once more, as if she had been shot. Although she could distinctively hear some movement in the forest, she couldn't control her body's demand to rest. So, clamping her hands to her sides, Hermione continued to kneel in the snow, praying she would stay alive for only a few moments more.

* * *

Crouching in the trees, Draco could see someone approaching where he was hiding. 

They looked pretty badly hurt, but the person continued to stumble onwards. They tripped over a body it had obviously not seen, and he heard them cry out when they realized the body was clearly dead. He could see by there rough appearance that she was woman. She kept walking onwards, and he moved closer. He could now tell it was a teenager, and when she fell onto her knees she was finally close enough for him to see—

* * *

Hermione fell to her knees, giving in to the exhaustions coursing through her body. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold and the biting cold, but the rest of he exposed skin was a deathly white. 

Draco had been thinking about her for so long that he didn't dare believe that the girl he saw before him was real. She certainly didn't look like the girl he had said good bye to only a few days earlier. Still, Draco knew it was the same Hermione—even if she wasn't in her prime—and quickly made his way to where she had collapsed.

As he approached, Draco noted that Hermione's eyes were pale and glazed over. It was devastating to watch her in such a weakened state—he had to help her. Dropping down to his knees, Draco tried to pick her out of the snow, but when he slid his arms under her and attempted to lift, her head fell back, sending her hair cascading around her shoulders. Draco paused. With the snow sprinkled throughout her hair, she looked like a pearly white snow angel.

It didn't, however, change the fact that she needed him.

* * *

"Hermione!" Draco whispered, leaning down so that his mouth was next to her ear. Hermione shuddered, reeling from the sudden warmth radiating from his body. Groaning, Hermione blinked awake, snuggling into Draco's warm fur coat while his broad shoulders covered her protectively. 

"Are—are you here to save me?" Hermione's voice quavered, barely audible above the howling of the wind. Draco's heart nearly melted on the spot—she sounded so desperate and so pathetic that he couldn't imagine how it must have been for her during the war.

"Yes," Draco responded shortly, drawing her closer to his chest. He was her savior—she needed him.

Hermione blinked up at Draco, as if finally connecting him with the sudden arms around her body. For a minute, she looked confused, as if trying to figure out where she knew him from. Then, as her brain began to thaw and logical thoughts began to return, Hermione's eyes widened as sudden realization dawned over her.

"Draco—you're a," Hermione's voice fell a few octaves, "you're a Death Eater?" Her eyes scanned over him as if seeing him for the first time. It couldn't be true. It _couldn't _be true.

But it was.

She recognized the long fur coat, the trademark colors and of course, the haunting hood pushed back so that his head was sticking out. It was the unmistakable uniform of the people she had been fighting mere hours ago.

With a moan of terror, Hermione struggled to break free from Draco's determined grasp.

The panic in Hermione's eyes was unnerving and Draco let his grip go slack so Hermione could wriggle away. As soon as she was back on the ground though, it seemed that her energy had once again deserted her, leaving her a quivering mess at Draco's feet.

Lying flat on the ground, Hermione finally accepted defeat. _How could he? Was he just using me the whole time? Did he even like me or was he trying to get information about Harry for Voldemort? Did he ever love me?_ Self doubt and rage flooded Hermione's consciousness as she began to cry.

Draco watched Hermione's eyes flicker with fear as he walked slowly over to where she was lying—his face looming directly above hers. His face glowed against the white swirling mist surrounding him.

"Hermione—," Draco began, but stopped suddenly when Hermione rubbed her eyes.

"Why don't you just kill me now, and spare me the pain?" She demanded of him, but despite her strength, she couldn't hide the fear in her voice. "I—I thought," Hermione stopped suddenly, shaking her head. "Never mind what I thought. It's obvious you were having a huge laugh at my expense with all of the other Deatheaters. I can see it now—everyone laughing about how easily you fooled the poor Gryffindor bint."

"Hermione—you have to understand," Draco begged of her, realizing his efforts were fruitless. He had been so happy when he had seen her in the woods, but now he wished he wouldn't have been as stupid to forget who he really was….

"How could you Draco?" Hermione asked pitifully. She looked so innocent lying in the snow.

"I'm here to help you," he said, picking up her weak body into his arms. She was so light, and her eyes were barely open, as if she was struggling to keep them from shutting. She looked so beautiful to Draco—she always had. She had something extra special about her than the rest of all the other girls. At the moment though, she looked so faded and pale, that it seemed as if one gust of wind would blow her away….

"Here to save me?" Hermione tried to laugh bitterly, but instead it came out as a cough. She tried to fight to get out of his arms, but he had her firmly in his arms and she was too tired and weak to do anything. There was nothing he could say now to change the situation—she could never forgive him. "So Draco, tell me how many of my friends have you killed?"

Draco bit his lip to contain his anger, and to stop himself from flaring up in a rage.

"Hermione, please," Draco begged, trying to stop the anger leaking out into his tone. He couldn't really be angry at her now—he knew she was exhausted and traumatized from the war and anything she said would be in defense.

"Why are you saving me?" Hermione finally murmured, in such a quiet voice that Draco barely heard it.

For a minute, Draco simply thought about it. He couldn't tell her how much she had changed him, how beautiful she really was, and how stupid he had been not to realize for all those years back that she was the trophy he had always wanted.

"Because—Hermione, I—,"

The snow was falling around them, and from far away, they looked like one figure. He was hunched over her, so that the cold and the snow wouldn't harm her, and he leaned in even closer to her face, and said,

"I'm doing it because I love you."

**A/N: Awwwww! Don't ya love it? Lol! R&R**


	15. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

****

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters, plots or stories. **

_Hogwarts Reunion_

"Hermione?"

Hermione turned around to face a pretty, aristocratic woman with curious eyes.

"Yes?"

"Hermione what did you do?" Despite the flush of embarrassment Hermione felt at the question, she tried to smile brightly and shrug it off. Ever since her _re_transformation back to her old self, she had encountered these kinds of queries from people who had gotten used to her glossier look. It had been a hard choice—trading in her sleek look for her old tangle of hair and her softer curves, but Hermione had never regretted her decision. After the war, it all just seemed so pointless—the fake personage parading around. And for what? No one cared if she was a supermodel. Hermione had been so tired of everyone gawking at her, commenting on every piece of her person, so she had simply stopped pretending. She didn't need magic to be pretty—or happy. The toothy smile spread across her face was evidence of that.

The woman looked pleased with the change, even if it had come as somewhat of a surprise. The last time she had seen Hermione, the girl had been so decked out that it was nearly impossible to tell that the bookish, little know-it-all was really behind all of the glitz. She was glad Hermione had returned to her old self. All of the stuff from school had just seemed so silly and nonsensical. Things were much more real now. Hermione had transformed herself back to what she really was—not a Clique member, not some socialite—just a girl. Hermione Granger.

"Pansy?" Hermione guessed after a second, the smile on her face growing even wider at the familiar face. Pansy, who had tried to keep her well-bred façade up for as long as she could, broke it instantly with a very unladylike squeal, pulling Hermione into a bone-crunching hug.

"Hermione, I knew you were too boring to keep up your rock-star image I gave you," Pansy teased, pulling away to stare at her friend. Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled. Pansy would never change and there was something comforting in that.

"I wasn't sure about coming," Hermione found herself admitting, "with the _un_-makeover and with everything that's happened—," Hermione trailed off, letting Pansy draw her own conclusions. She had dreaded coming back and having to confront the pretty Slytherin and judging by the greeting they had exchanged, Hermione was beginning to wonder whether or not Pansy even _knew _everything that had happened. Surprisingly though, Pansy just shrugged, flipping her hand as if it was no big deal.

"Hermione, it's okay—I know," she admitted but Hermione wasn't any more at ease. She avoided eye contact but couldn't help a quick glance into Pansy's eyes. Pansy didn't even look troubled by this though, and gave Hermione a reassuring look.

"Listen Hermione—Draco and I never would have worked out, and besides that—," Hermione smiled at Pansy's flippant response. She knew Pansy would never openly accept defeat, but she couldn't understand how Pansy could have forgiven her so easily.

"—and after all that, how could I not marry Blaise?" Hermione's jaw dropped open in shock.

"You _what_?" She demanded, the surprise evident in her tone. Pansy smiled, waving a sizable diamond in Hermione's face.

"Well its all because of you Hermione! I would have never needed to make Draco jealous, if he didn't like you, so you got me and Blaise together, and I couldn't be more grateful!"

Hermione stunned, just laughed with Pansy, and together, the two girls headed over to join the larger crowd.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen," Harry began nobly and Hermione caught her breath. Since the war, he had become so much—_older. _Everyone had, really. No one was left unchanged and, for the most part, these changes were for the better. Harry though, seemed to glow with maturity and Hermione couldn't have been prouder of her old friend.

"We are here to celebrate, and commemorate all that has happened since our graduation from Hogwarts. But firstly, on a graver note, I would like to memorialize all of those lost to the war by reading out their names in remembrance."

Hermione glanced around the crowd, trying to find one certain person. Ginny was standing close by, gazing in awe up at Harry. Ron and Hannah were holding hands, smiling at eachother every now and then, and Pansy was sitting on the lap of a happy looking Blaise, who it appeared to be in a warped conversation with…Draco.

As subtly as she could, Hermione began to weave her way through the crowd as Harry continued to read the names of those people who had met misfortune during the course of battle.

"…Padma Patil, Gregory Goyle, Remus Lupin…,"

Trying to ignore the moans and stifled cries of the members of the crowd, Hermione kept her gaze locked on Draco. He glanced over, a self-satisfied grin across his face.

He was always happy to see her.

Blaise nodded towards Hermione. The hatred between Slytherin and the rest of the houses had nullified since the defeat of Voldemort, but the house enmity was still present. Hermione tried to ignore it but she had to admit that sometimes it still hurt to know she was despised.

"—and lastly, Lucius Malfoy," Harry ended grimly, although Hermione had to admit that he didn't look as sympathetic as he had when he was reading some of the other names.

Draco flinched, but smiled at Hermione who was looking at him to make sure he was alright.

So much had happened since the war, and yet—it was always in the back of their minds.

"And now, please join me in welcoming Hermione Granger who will present us with a speech she has prepared for the occasion."

Hermione gave Draco a quick kiss on the cheek, who reassuringly squeezed her hand tightly, wishing her good luck, before taking a reassuring gulp and walking on stage. Whispers trailed after Hermione from people who hadn't seen her since her un-transformation but Hermione was pleased to note all of them were positive. She even heard Parvati hiss to her companion that, "Padma would have been proud to see her again."

Reaching the place where Harry stood, she smiled at him and allowed him to give her a brief hug before turning to face the occupants of the Great Hall. She gripped the podium for support.

"If somebody told me that I would have to give a speech to the entire year when I was Head Girl, I think I would have had it written by the second day of school," Hermione paused as a ripple of laughter floated through the crowd. When there was silence once more, she smiled and continued. "But now, I don't need a piece of paper to remind myself of what we've all been through."

There were nods of approval, and some tearful bursts, all of which prompted Hermione to continue.

"A few years ago, if someone had told me that a Slytherin would save my life, or that I would have consequently developed significant feelings for said Slytherin, I would have been horrified." Hermione paused, glancing to an embarrassed-looking Draco who appeared cowed by this encomium. "Thankfully though, I have finally opened my eyes—along with many of you—to the people we have always chosen to ignore. After all that has happened during the war and because of it, I have realized exactly how much I depend on being accepted, and accepting the help of others.

"It is only together that we can work on bringing back our community. Years of hatred will have to be forgotten in order to work towards a better future. The past, and all that has happened, will be hard to disregard, but we must learn to forget our prejudices and our ignorance in order to band together for a stronger, more united front. This is not to say that we can all forget _all_ of the wrongs that people have done to us in the past—believe me, I remember them more than anyone. The aforementioned Slytherin is _still _paying for some of his transgressions," another wave of laughter rippled through the group. Blaise, who was standing with Pansy, reached over and gave Draco a playful punch in the shoulder, whispering something to him that made him blush even redder. Emboldened, Hermione continued. "Despite all of these wrongs however, we have to realize that in order to create the future we want, we have to forget our internecine battles and start to see people for who they have become, not the people they were."

There was silence as Hermione concluded her dialogue, nodding slightly towards Harry who was lingering near the podium for his cue to return and begin the evening's planned festivities. Then, as she was descending the small stairway back onto the floor of the Great Hall, there was a roar of applause that brought a distinctive flush to Hermione's already-rosy cheeks.

As she made her way down the platform though, Hermione had one thought in her mind and that was returning to her Slytherin paramour. Draco, who seemed just as agog in finding Hermione, laced his way through the crowd in order to meet her halfway.

"That was some speech," Draco whispered, slipping his arm around her waist and leading her back to where Blaise and Pansy were telling a very bored-looking pair about their recent nuptials.

"It was nothing," Hermione blushed, shrugging it off. "I just—I wanted to try and inspire something. A change in the way people think or something like that—I guess that's kind of silly though, huh?" Draco shook his head, pulling her close.

"Naw—I think it was pretty damn brilliant if you ask me. Quite inspiring, actually," Draco smiled, whispering into Hermione's tangle of hair. She laughed, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"Oh really? _Inspiring_? How so?" She demanded, turning to face the blond boy who she had come to admire over the past few months. Seeing him step up to the challenge of executor of the Malfoy estate had really changed him in Hermione's eyes. After his father's death, there had been so many ends to tie up, so many things to take care of, that Hermione wondered whether Draco was even capable of managing it all. To her surprise though, he had done it all. He had managed to tie up all of his father's business dealings without gaining many enemies in the process. He had undone the various fear tactics Lucius had been fond of employing on his workers, which had created a level of trust among the house elves (which Draco flat out refused to let go, despite Hermione's pleading). He had even stepped in and taken care of his mother, who seemed lost without Lucius' domineering ways.

Like so many of her classmates, the war had changed Draco. Fortunately though, it seemed that the change had been for the better.

"Hermione! Draco!"

Hermione and Draco, both slightly miffed at not being able to continue their private talk, turned to face Harry and Ginny who were heading their way. Ron and Hannah it seemed had gone off in search of a quieterplace to continue their evening. As Hermione and Ginny embraced jovially, Harry and Draco exchanged an obligatory nod at eachother, each standing next to their respective girlfriends. Although Draco and Harry had agreed not to bicker and leave their petty elementary arguments behind, they were nowhere near friendship and oftentimes found themselves at a loss for what to say to eachother. The only thing they had in common was Hermione, and as much as she tried to coax them into something resembling camaraderie they found it was too hard to do, even for Hermione. They still tried though, and for that Hermione was eternally grateful.

"You were great up there," Ginny praised, smiling at Hermione. She was beaming and had been since Harry had proposed, a few short months after the war. Everyone it seemed was swept up in the feeling of their own mortality, and had since been doing the live-like-you-were-dying bit which ranged from proposals, declarations of love, and general feelings of restlessness—a few of which had been cured by entering equally dangerous tasks.

"Thanks—I was praying that no one could see how badly my legs were shaking," Hermione admitted, waving off the praise. Draco shook his head, giving Hermione's side a gentle squeeze that bumped her back into his side.

"Not tonight Hermione. You were amazing up there," he agreed, growling delightfully into her ear.

"He's right Hermione—you really got to people. Everyone's talking," Harry said, nodding in Draco's direction. It was the closest he had come to acknowledging the fact that Draco may have said _something _right, and Hermione saw it as definite progress.

"Well, thanks then. I was just hoping not to flounder."

"You were amazing—but I think if we don't go try and find Ron and Hannah now we'll lose them altogether," Ginny laughed, tugging Harry along behind her in search of her wayward brother. Hermione and Draco watched them go, smiling at the picture they made. Despite how you felt about them, you had to marvel at their affection for one another.

"Quite the inspiration, don't you think?" Hermione pondered nostalgically, looking to Draco. He fought the urge to roll his eyes, and nodded instead.

"You know I've never tried to copycat Potter," Draco began, fumbling in his pockets for a tiny velvet box, "so all I can say is that this is after Blaise and Pansy's impromptu—if not slightly disturbing—union."

Hermione paused, shock coursing over her. It was true that she and Draco had been together for quite a while now, but somewhere, deep in the back of Hermione's head, she always feared that he would one day "snap out of it", realizing that she had just been the ultimate rebellion against the life his father had created for him. Now though, Draco seemed so genuine and honest.

They would never be a perfect match. Their vastly different upbringings often led them to various quarrels where they were pitted against eachother in a vicious verbal exchange. He didn't get along with her friends, and his friends didn't much like her. But to Hermione and Draco,

None of that mattered.

Hermione smiled, wiggling her newly-bejeweled finger so that the diamond caught the light.

"Well?" Draco urged. Hermione had been quick to accept the ring, but she had yet to vocalize her consent. She smiled, leaning in so that their lips were almost touching.

"Well, if this isn't a testament to what I was saying up there, I don't know what is," Hermione laughed, giving Draco a quick kiss on the lips. He smiled.

"So that's a yes?" Hermione nodded.

"Of course." Draco smiled, relieved. He had figured that Hermione would say yes, but he wasn't entirely sure. Her assent however was greatly appreciated.

"I can't wait to see the look on everyone's faces when we tell them," Hermione laughed, admiring her ring again. Draco smiled thoughtfully.

"Potter may very well have a heart attack on the spot," he mused almost hopefully. Hermione swatted his chest, rolling her eyes at his grim expectations. Draco smiled. "Well, what are we waiting for, the wedding? Let's go tell him!" Hermione laughed out loud, pulling Draco back towards her. She smiled.

"I think that we can wait a minute or so before we tell everyone," Hermione suggested to a puzzled looking Draco.

"What? Why?"

"Well, I was thinking that we could take Ronald's advice and find a," Hermione paused, smirking devilishly, "_quieter _place to celebrate by ourselves first." Draco smiled, catching on to Hermione's suggestions. Over the course of their courtship, Draco had endured numerous comments from his Slytherin friends regarding the _chastity _of his relationship with Hermione, but Draco was positive that they were all wrong. His friends didn't know anything. She would be a Slytherin in no time. Hermione smiled. Harry and the rest of her friends would be horrified by her less-than-proper actions.

But the Clique, which Hermione had come to regard as a distant, yet pleasant, memory, would heartily approve.

**THE END**


	16. Authors Note

**AUTHORS NOTE**

Ok, so…here it is. The end of The Hogwarts Clique. It was my first FanFic, and although it definitely **did not** stick to my original plot, I am quite pleased with what I have made of it! I hope you have enjoyed it, but I must say, I am glad to finish it off.

I would like to thank my 2 beta's, who had a HUGE influence on my story, one of them is Alexandra. A, thanks so much, without you I would have never even of written this, and then to someone I have previously mentioned, pink-levicorpus. You have helped me beyond any recognition, so thanks SO much!

Well other than that, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be writing again, and maybe later on today, I will post a little 'taster' of an idea I had whilst writing this story…

Well anyway, thanks for being awesome reviewers, I love coming home from school, to get a few reviews waiting for me in my inbox! Thank you so much. And please tell me what you think of my last chapter, I was desperate to finish my story off, but other than killing off Draco and Hermione (which is _not _a very nice ending) this is all I could come up with!

Thank you all,

mina1011

x


	17. TASTER

**Hey guys! Me again, well here is the first chapter of a brand new story, if you want to read the summary and stuff, just look up the story in the archive, I've put it up there aswell! Please review here, or there, because I really want to know what you think, and if I should continue! Byeeee! x**

**Paris Days**

Chapter 1 - The Competition

As per usual, the buzz in the Great Hall was immense, and intensified by the long months of absence. Students milled around in large groups, calling out to friends they hadn't seen over the summer and introducing new ones that had passed the years undetected. Younger students crowed excitedly about moving up in the ranks as seventh years strutted around importantly, surveying the room with more mature eyes than they had the year before.

For most of the seventh years it was simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying to be arriving into the Great Hall for their last year. All of them were eager to get through to the real world, but deserting the haven they had enjoyed for the past seven years was somewhat nerve-wracking. None of them had any idea what was to come in their lives post-Hogwarts, but many were eager to find out. For the time being however, most were content to live up to their seventh year status and make the most of their last year.

The summer holidays had a tendency of bringing out the best of people upon their return to Hogwarts. Most students looked better and felt ready to start the school year. It was interesting to see everyone again; they always seemed to change since the end of last year.

Ron had grown—_again_. He certainly looked (almost) 18, and many girls were surprised to find he wasn't the tall, gangly, red-headed first year he used to be, but a handsome adult—and it was safe to say that being goal-keeper in Quidditch had worked out quite well for him. He was getting quite a few looks from some of the girls. Ron however didn't seem to notice the gawking of his peers because he was quite intently focused on his best friend Harry who happened to be holding the hand of his one and only little sister.

Harry, for his part, didn't seem to notice his friend's frustrations as he was finding it increasingly difficult to tear his gaze from Ginny, much to Ron's annoyance. To everyone else who wasn't related to one of them, it was cute to see how in love they were, and however many times Ron gave them a bad look, it didn't seem to faze them one bit. They had been doing it all summer, and they certainly weren't going to stop now.

Hermione sighed; wishing someone would look at her like Harry was looking at Ginny. The summer had been long and hot, and Hermione was sad to note that there hadn't been much change in her own appearance. She was confident enough to admit that she wasn't ugly, but she wasn't vain enough to overlook some of her obvious faults. She wasn't the prettiest in her year but there was something about her that seemed to captivate people. It was almost as if the years of studying had paid off and blessed her with an almost _intelligent _boldness to her face that brought out her previously-bland facial features. It wasn't often that someone noticed this somewhat appealing trait however as people tended to focus their energies on the things she did rather than the girl she had become.

Sitting down, Hermione was greeted by several of her old friends. Dean Thomas and Seamus both waved hello to her and several heads nodded in her direction. After having been a Gryffindor for seven years now, she had grown fairly used to the inhabitants and was proud to say that she was on good footing with everyone

Hermione glanced around, as if to make sure she had greeted everyone appropriately before sitting between Ron and Harry. Harry however, was situated so that his back was to Hermione so that he could face Ginny and Ron was doing a terrible job of ignoring the couple altogether.

"So, what you think this is about?" Ron wondered aloud, turning to Hermione for clarification, as if she would know why McGonagall had called a meeting for the sixth and seven years. Hermione leaned in, preparing to tell Ron that his guess was as good as hers, when McGonagall approached the platform.

McGonagall, as well as Dumbledore before her, had the uncanny ability to silence a room by simply standing up or uttering a single word. It was as if she didn't need words to give a distinct impression of her superiority—her presence alone was enough. It was the kind of control Hermione wished she would someday be able to acquire and had always admired the woman for it.

"Good evening to you all and welcome back," she began curtly, addressing all necessary platitudes before continuing with her purpose, "As you all know, there is only a short time left before you all leave Hogwarts in search of greater things." McGonagall's voice was calm, and although she spoke with a normal tone, everyone in the hall could hear her clearly.

"With this is mind, we have decided that instead of the usual 6 week course we provide on getting to know Muggle world life skills, we have decided to make things more," McGonagall paused, "_interesting_." She glanced over to the Slytherin tables where it was apparent everyone was doing their best to ignore her.

"The staff feels that given the circumstances you will most likely face once out of Hogwarts, it is important for you to know how to live with Muggles surrounding you in everyday life, so it is vital that Hogwarts gives you some kind of perspective to this way of living."

There was some obvious muttering of disapproval from the Slytherin table. To Hermione, it seemed as if they had _any_ association with Muggles, it would kill them.

"But to make it more interesting as well as to make sure that the task is carried out to completion," a quick glance to the Slytherin table made it clear who exactly this was directed at, "we have decided to make this course into a competition."

When everybody heard the word _competition_, people started to mutter to their friends and the room was generally a lot more interested and excited than before. It had an effect on people, as soon as something became a race, or the chance of being better than someone else, everyone was drawn in to this prospect. _Nice one_, Hermione couldn't help but think.

"This year, we thought to give you a practical course, which is also more likely something that you won't forget as easily and although the Hogwarts course is successful there's nothing like trying it hands-on. So, everyone will be assigned a partner and will be sent to a Muggle environment for three weeks."

There was a stunned silence as Minerva continued.

"Each pair must use the least amount of magic as possible to try and enrich your knowledge on the area. You will be expected to gain a few Muggle friends, and be successful at a Muggle job, which we will assign to you appropriately. The winners will get 5000 galleons each."

The students, who had all been incredulously silent, now exploded in cheers and laughter, but before they could talk to one another, McGonagall continued.

"We have also taken into account that some of you have had more contact with the Muggle world than others, so to accommodate that, each couple have the equal amount of exposure to their previous interaction with Muggles, to make it fairer."

Hermione was extremely excited, along with Harry, because they had both grown up in a Muggle environment, meaning they would have a bigger chance of success. Ron however, was looking rather gloomy.

"We have already sorted out the partners, and you will be leaving tonight to your new location."

Excitement pulsated through the room, everyone hoping to win and eager to participate. Even the Slytherins looked eager, although it was probably more to do with the significant prize money as opposed to the actual learning experience.

Not to mention the fact that it was a great excuse to mess around for three weeks.

McGonagall didn't seem to notice the green-eyed students though, as she had already started to read out the names of the partners and fund them appropriately, with £500, keys to their new home, a map to their location, and a handbook for how to live with Muggles—with a few additional notes on the rules inside the book.

Then, each couple would leave the Great Hall, and spend their last remaining hours at Hogwarts packing their bags, going over the rules, and eagerly awaiting 9:00pm, when they would be given their tickets to their destination—by airplane.

"Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley," McGonagall called out, eliciting a furious groan from Ron, but Harry and Ginny didn't seem to notice or even care about this. They were too busy going up to receive their dues, leaving Ron to moan about the fact that his little sister was staying with her boyfriend 3 weeks, without his supervision.

Hermione however knew they were going to have a great time and found herself smiling at her friends' enthusiasm. She knew it was a logical decision too. Harry, like her, had grown up without knowing anything about the wizarding world, and was raised basically, as a muggle. Ginny was a pure-blood, and had known what magic was her whole life.

Hermione crossed her fingers, hoping she got as lucky.

Little by little the Great Hall began to filter out as more and more people got paired off. Soon, Hermione was one of the last people remaining and her choices were rather slim. What felt like an eternity, but in fact was just a few minutes later, McGonagall paused before calling out her last pair.

"Hermione Granger and—,"

Hermione closed her eyes, praying for _anyone _but—

"—Draco Malfoy."

Shit.

**So what you think? I you wanna keep reading, simply type up Paris Days into the search thingy, and voila! I've done a few more chapters, so if you want to keep reading...you know where to go! Lol**

**x**


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